62. Reliquary


    [Designation: RELIQUARY]


    [Instrument Class: INFERNAL]


    [Anchored Realm: NARAKA (Immortal)]


    [Item Description: Curious souls have long wondered about the origins of our physical forms. There’s a comforting logic in the belief that, whence we came, there we shall return. But what are we to believe if where we return to is someplace we can neither see nor touch? Some claim that everything in the afterlife is, in one way or another, a reflection of worlds that exist beyond our memory or comprehension—that fabled ‘Mundane’ of which much is spoken but very little understood. It then follows that a soul’s body is the product of ‘reassembly’—reconstitution, if you will—pieced together from the myriad memories that passed on from the Mundane. What manner of magic—and what twisted and tortured mind behind it—would it take to leave something solid and enduring of souls that would otherwise turn to dust? And to what end? Commemoration? Reclamation? Or perhaps simply… perpetuation for its own sake?]


    ***


    First, Dashi’s body went limp, like the life went out of him.


    One moment, the boy stood at his full, puny height upon a throne of Bones. The next, his head lolled onto his chest and his feet slipped off the platform.


    Serac reacted as any responsible adult would, dashing forward in an attempt to catch a helpless, falling child. Except the child never fell. Instead, his whole body levitated in the air, just in front of the skeleton platform. It was as if he was being held up by something solid yet shapeless, and Serac soon saw that to be exactly the case.


    Whatever soul had just vacated Dashi had simultaneously breathed life into the giant urn in the center of the room. RELIQUARY now shuddered and roared with flames both hell-black and white-hot, as it spat out fresh whorls of bone dust into the air.


    This latest of dust-storms rapidly filled the entire room with its fine, pale-gray particles. By now, the pattern had been well-established, and Serac would’ve found it almost hackneyed if she didn’t know just how potent its magic was.


    [Wayfarer Status Effect: OSSIFY]


    [TRIBULATION active (x4): current buff at 20%]


    Serac felt a sudden surge of energy within herself, one that didn’t translate to any Pathsighted number. She recognized it immediately as the empowering effect of [Enlisted], now drawing directly from the source itself. The temptation to give herself over was made ever stronger by the size and proximity of the magic itself, but—ironically enough—she no longer found it difficult to resist.


    Because she knew what giving in here meant, and that knowledge was enough to stoke the flames of her rebellion. The draw of the Bone Lord’s shroud was great, but Serac’s absolute contempt for the idea of subjugating herself to a skeleton freak was much greater. Thanks, Mr Skelly. I’ll take the free buff, and I’ve no intention of paying you back.


    That still left the matter of resisting the Bone Lord himself. As far as Serac could tell, the Immortal had yet to show his true form, whatever that might look like. Luckily for her, the very source of his magic sat right in the middle of the room, presenting a hefty yet brittle-looking target for a gunslinger to aim at.


    The Wayfarers had agreed not to ‘try anything’ on this first attempt, but the prospect of shattering the Bone Lord’s power generator to pieces was too tempting. More tempting still than [Enlisting] in his army.


    Aim, lock, fire. Serac’s aim was true, and her target was large. But, as it turned out, it was also well-protected. The bullet, imbued and augmented by the Bone Lord’s own magic, was also consumed by the same storm, melting into slag before it could reach the giant urn.


    Beside her—and before she had a chance to warn him—Zacko had given into the same temptation, spinning into the urn with a karate chop. He bounced back immediately and flapped his hand as if he’d touched a hot furnace—and in a way, he had.


    “No good,” he announced redundantly. “Just lost a quarter of my HP to that. Think the only way to win this fight is to get at the Bone Lord himself.”


    “No kidding, but where even is he? What am I supposed to shoot at?”


    At this, both Wayfarers flicked their gazes towards Dashi. The boy still looked to be suspended in sleep, utterly defenseless by all appearances. The thought crossed both Wayfarers’ mind at the same time, then they shook their heads to dispel it at the same time.


    No way are we going to harm Dashi any more than he already has been. We’re here to save him as much as to smite the Bone Lord.


    But the question still remained. Just where was this Lord, and how were the Wayfarers to proceed with their smiting? As if in answer, the [Ossify] storm all around rippled and spoke in a guttural contrabass.


    “Fret not, Wayfarers! What kind of a king would I be if I didn’t lead my battles from the front?”


    The exclamation was accompanied by something akin to a volcanic eruption. The top of RELIQUARY burst with new flames, releasing a thick stream of bone dust that geysered towards the top of the spire. The stream quickly thinned, but not before leaving behind a fearsome imprint.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    The Bone Lord’s physical form resembled—who could’ve guessed?—a giant skeleton. Or at least the upper half of one, which even now filled and blackened the space above the Wayfarers’ heads.


    Unlike the dust that had birthed it, this skeletal colossus was of glistening onyx in color. with a trio of hulking horns to complete the Rakshasa look. The extra horn in the middle was a deformity rarely seen among Rakshasa-kind, but in this particular case, it was almost fitting—giving the head the appearance of having donned a crown.


    In place of Flesh or cinnabar skin, the Bone Lord wore a crackling aura of hell-black and white-hot flames. And in place of Blood, torrents of pale-gray bone dust coursed through the crevices and cavities within his anatomy. Two such cavities were the orbital sockets upon the skull, which together fixed their turbulent glare upon the Wayfarers on the ground.


    A shudder ran down Serac’s spine. The Bone Lord’s direct gaze had woken anew that surge of longing from earlier, now magnified by a sense of awe. She gritted her teeth and gripped REVOLVER to brace herself. Just focus on the task. At least Mr Skelly’s given you a huge target to shoot at!


    Then, as if he’d read her mind, the Bone Lord’s ‘voice’ shook the arena once more.


    “Oh, don’t think I’d make this easy for you. What kind of a king would I be if I didn’t also bring along a legion of followers, ready to lay down their souls at a moment’s notice?”


    With that, one giant skeleton hand reached into a giant urn, only to emerge with more bone dust that scattered into the storm. Except there was discernible intent to this particular batch’s movement. The dust reconfigured itself into myriad pellets—each about the size of a .44 Special—which then dispersed and flew at speed in all directions.


    Serac instinctively ducked, staying true to her and Zacko’s plan of staying alive for as long as possible. It took her a moment or two to realize that there’d been no need. For none of the Bone-bullets had been aimed at the Wayfarers.


    Instead, they flew out in a perfect circle, before each connecting with one of the many Huskbound statues that lined the wall. At nearly the same time, Serac’s entire Pathsighted vision flooded with labels and HP bars.


    [Pishacha Footman], [Pishacha Footman], [Pishacha Footman], …


    [Pishacha Archer], [Pishacha Archer], [Pishacha Archer], …


    The pandemonium didn’t stop there. Some of the ‘bullets’ had also dislodged the skeleton parts that were embedded in the wall, which quickly reassembled themselves into—


    [Chakra], [Chakra], [Chakra], …


    Then, for a final fanfare at this hellish parade, some of the Footmen and Archers got together and grabbed themselves sets of skeleton wheels to form—


    [Pishacha Charioteer], [Pishacha Charioteer], [Pishacha Charioteer], …


    Before all was said and done, the entire arena played host to a veritable legion of Huskbound soldiers, all ready to lay down their souls to crush a pair of woefully underpowered challengers. This—at last—was the shape of an Immortal tyrant’s ‘greater plan’, presented in Bone, if not in Flesh. This… was how the Bone Lord intended to raise hell.


    “Oh, fuck me,” Zacko muttered softly.


    “Oh, heaven forsake me!” Serac cried out in dismay, feeling unusually pious all of a sudden. “Well? What do we now? Do we stick to the plan? Is there even a point to—”


    Serac quickly found out that she had no choice in the matter. When an entire Huskbound army came for you at once, all you really could do was dodge, run, and pray.


    And even that couldn’t get you very far. The Ossuary’s Inner Sanctum soon became a true hell of its own kind, filled with flying haymakers and grinding skeleton wheels.


    Amidst it all, the Wayfarers dodged, ran, and occasionally blocked, as best they could. They were constantly one slip-up away from being overwhelmed, and not a soul in the room would lend an ear to their prayers.


    At some point, Serac ran out of Stamina. It’d only been a matter of time, given her [Overburdened] penalty and the sheer number of threats she had to react to. After that, one stray arrow from who-the-hell-knew-where was enough to Poise-break her, leaving her at the mercy of a whole army’s worth of critical damage.


    Zacko, being the knight in Fiend-skin armor that he was, rushed to Serac’s aid, only to eat several arrows of his own. He too fell to his knees, with just a sliver of HP left, having no choice but to meet his fate alongside his gunslinging partner.


    The army closed in to deal the finishing blow. And then… they stopped.


    Footmen lowered their fists. Archers stowed away their bows. Charioteers called their vehicles to a halt. And they all bowed their heads in unison—in reverence.


    Even if she weren’t Poise-broken, it would’ve taken a dumbfounded Serac several moments to react. She couldn’t understand why the fighting had stopped. Was this yet another intervention from her mysterious ‘third entity’? But how could that be, when this army was clearly under the firm command of another?


    Then, as she recovered from her daze, she became aware of one other element to this massive clusterfuck of a fight. An element that was always right in front of her eyes—yet also had the tendency to get lost in the shuffle.


    The pale-gray bar of the [Ossify] gauge ticked upwards, ever closer to completion.


    Welp. Even if these Pishachas won’t finish us off, the [Ossify] surely will. Funny that we made it all the way here without once turning into Bone Husks, but… I guess there’s a first time to everything.


    But something didn’t feel right. In fact, something felt very, very wrong about the picture. And as a hitherto unfathomable reality dawned on her, Serac abruptly lost any bit of Zen she had left.


    “Serac Edin!” Trippy yelled out in obvious alarm, evidently having come to the same horrifying realization. “You must not let [Ossify] complete in your current state! I sense there’s… there’s another interaction at play, one that we must avoid at all costs!”


    Even as Trippy voiced his incomplete warning, a new message flickered onto Serac’s consciousness. It carried with it something akin to an answer—an answer to a riddle that had niggled at the back of her mind, ever since she’d unwittingly sworn her First Pledge.


    [Wayfarer Status Effect: ENLISTED -> …]


    Eyes wide and Poise recovered, Serac looked up sharply towards the ceiling. There, a giant skull-face met her gaze. Then its rows of onyx teeth drifted up into an unmistakable smile.


    A smile of compassion. Of camaraderie. Of a benevolent ruler welcoming another into his shroud.


    “No!”


    Serac raised REVOLVER and pointed its barrel at her new target: Zacarias Borges-Juventus. She shot the Manusya in the face (sorry!) and waited to see his HP bar deplete, before turning the gun onto herself.