He stood motionless, his breath pluming in the cold air as he looked down at the spot where he had knelt monts ago.
The corpse of Willow Lockhart was gone.
It hadn’t vanished into a dinsion of storage, nor had it walked away. It had simply disintegrated.
The armor, the flesh, the bones—all of it had collapsed into a fine, grey pile of ash that looked like the remnants of a burnt log in a cold hearth.
Even her sword, the Oathkeeper, had crumbled into tallic dust.
Percival stared at the mound of ash, a flicker of surprise crossing his face.
"Interesting," he murmured. When he had found rcius, he was already an old brown skeleton, and he hadn’t cared to look into the coffin after raising him.
It seed that the system completely consud the physical vessel entirely, burning it with Soulfire. Likely to forge the spiritual contract or to ensure that the corpse couldn’t be trifled with.
Or maybe to remind him that once he failed the Contract Quest, there was no corpse left to resurrect the soul and try again.
He nudged the ash with his boot. It scattered, light as air. Willow was now a part of him, locked away in the spiritual inventory of his soul, unable to manifest until he fulfilled his end of the bargain in Worthsville.
Like rcius she was a weapon he had purchased, but could not yet wield.
She was a bit more interesting though. rcius had been driven by revenge, while she had been driven by restoration.
But at least, this showed just how ambiguous the Contract Rituals were.
⸢Even the most peaceful death leaves sothing behind⸥
⸢Because of their willpower, Soul Soldiers cannot be enslaved like Skeleton Soldiers: they carry desires of their own, the need to finish what was left undone. But once you resolve that for them, their soul is emptied of desire and regret. The only will they carry forward is to serve the one who freed them⸥
These desires could range from helping a cat down a tree to destroying a mountain. And it didn’t matter the level or power of the Awakener.
A Lvl 140 Mage could have the most simplest quests, and a Lvl 70 Archer could desire that he take down an entire colony.
He would be the one who decided ultimately if the Soul Soldier was worth the effort.
Percival turned his back on the ash and looked toward the other fallen Awakeners.
The Barbarian, the Mage, and the male Knight.
He’d already decided these ones weren’t, regardless of whatever their Contract Quests were.
They lay twisted on the marble floor, their eyes staring blindly at the ceiling that had birthed their killers.
Percival’s trailed down each of their bodies, studying their armors and gear. Maybe they weren’t worth the effort to make Soul Soldiers, but they were not completely useless.
It was ti to loot.
He moved to the Barbarian first. He crouched, his gauntleted hands working efficiently to strip the corpse.
He pulled the heavy, double-headed greataxe from the dead man’s grip. It was a hefty piece of enchanted steel, vibrating with a faint residue of rage.
⸢Item Acquired: Altitude Cleaver (B-Grade)⸥
⸢Added to Inventory⸥
He claid the armor as well.
⸢Item Acquired: Bravestone Armor Plates (A-Grade) ⸥
⸢Added to Inventory⸥
But he didn’t stop there. There were other loot, so Artifacts, even a Relic, all stored in his inventory. He planned to go through them later.
After that, Percival placed his hand over the corpse’s chest, channeling his Necromancy. He wasn’t raising the body; he was extracting the undead version of the loots.
A dark, ghostly shimr peeled away from the corpse’s gear. The azure duplicate of the armor and the weapon.
⸢Item Acquired: Bravestone Armor Plate (A-Grade - Undead Version)⸥
⸢Item Acquired: Altitude Cleaver (B-Grade Undead Version)⸥
⸢Added to Undead Inventory⸥
He repeated the process with the Mage, taking her staff and robes, then stripping the ethereal essence from them. Then the Knight, taking his shield and sword.
He was stripping them down to the very concept of their equipnt. In the world of Awakeners, resources were power, and Percival wasted nothing.
These armor would either be used to equip his Skeleton and Soul Soldiers, or be salvaged to create brand new Undead armor and weapons.
As he straightened up, wiping the dust from his gloves, a sudden chi rang out, crisp and clear in the silence.
Ding!
⸢Your First Kill Level Up has activated successfully!⸥
Percival’s brows creased for a slight mont. He had forgotten all about that. The First Kill Level Up he received after clearing the Rending Marsh Gate World.
He’d been so occupied with the recent events that he had failed to intentionally plan what his next kill would have been.
With a frustrated frown, Percival hoped that it would at least be enough to make him not regret forgetting.
⸢Your first kill was a Manor Vampire⸥
⸢Calculating Experience...⸥
⸢Base EXP: 500⸥
⸢First Kill Multiplier: x100⸥
Percival’s eyes widened slightly behind his hair.
⸢Total Experience Gained: 50,000 EXP⸥
The number hovered in the air, glowing with a golden promise. 50,000. It was a staggering amount for a single kill, a jackpot that only the pioneers of the highest-difficulty Gates could ever hope to see.
⸢EXP: 219,500 / 240,499⸥
⸢EXP: 269,500 / 274,999⸥
Ding!
⸢Congratulations! You have leveled up⸥
⸢Lvl 48 → Lvl 49⸥
⸢All Attributes increased by 3⸥
⸢ 200 Mana | 150 Attack | 80 Defence⸥
Percival stared at the notification, the blue light reflecting in the blue of his eyes.
He opened his status window. The experience bar was filled to the brim, the golden liquid sloshing against the cap. He was only a few thousand EXP away from Level 50.
"Level 49," he whispered, testing the weight of the number.
Reaching this level so fast was a strange feeling. Percival couldn’t help comparing it to his previous life.
Back then, the climb from Level 1 to Level 50 had been a grueling, blood-soaked marathon. It had taken him nearly a year of scraping by in B and C Ranked Gate Worlds, nearly dying to goblins and kobolds.
Master Omares’ training had been a guideline, a light. But it didn’t make everything easier. Not as easy as it was now.
Here, in this new tiline...
Percival clenched his fist, feeling the raw power coursing through his veins.
"Weeks," he said. "It has been weeks."
He was speed-running destiny. He was shattering the curve. And this was only a tiny section of his overall plan.
Once Percival had contracted enough Soul Soldiers, he would send these Awakened Dead into Gate Worlds to clear, and as different teams of them do so, he could lay in bed, sleep for as much as he desired, and still level up.
The only thing left now was to enter Level 50, the all important checkpoint.
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