Chương 45

Suits of armor lined the hallway, looming over those who dared pass through the castle's corridors. Oliver was immediately grateful that he left Kiki in the master bedroom. His Shadow Slink skill let him sneak by without issues, but Echoes of the Dead whispered to him as he did so. There were spirits sealed within these suits of armor. They muttered secrets to one another, oblivious to his existence as he passed.

Should they find an intruder, these suits of armor would activate and hunt the trespasser to the best of their ability. The vampires had mentioned they had a [Necromancer] on staff. This must have been his work. It was inhumane to trap these souls within metal casings and Oliver could hear the pain in the spirits. Still, it was also effective. Enslaved souls disconnected from mortal shells and sealed to a purpose like this acted as an extremely powerful energy source.

Oliver currently had no idea how he was going to get Kiki out without triggering the security. He encountered the first vampire on the stairway up. The spawn had his nose buried in a book and never noticed as he passed inches from Oliver. A constant and liberal use of Death Aura applied alongside the numerous shadows cast throughout the corridors were all that kept him undetected. Oliver checked dozens of rooms and heavily debated murdering unsuspecting vampires on several occasions.

Those he encountered were relaxed with their guards down, completely at his mercy. He resisted the urge, though the temptation made his heart throb. He reminded himself that this was a stealth mission, first and foremost. Leaving behind a trail of dead bodies was a one-way ticket to detection and death. He was hoping to locate one of the entrances into the massive castle library. He felt confident that if he found one, he'd be able to smuggle himself and Kiki out through the secret tunnel there.

It was such an extensive room, that he liked his odds of locating it. If not that, though, he'd also take a room with a window into the entrance courtyard. He wasn't picky, he'd even take a second or third floor window if he needed to. His Resilience would let him take the brunt of a fall. Finally, he located a large double door made of black steel. Oliver, hopeful that he finally found the castle's main door to the library, cracked the door open. A chill burst from the crack.

And yet, despite the discomfort, Oliver found himself drawn in. Only when the door clanged shut behind him did his wits return to him. He blinked and glanced around. He stood in a lavish chapel. Stained-glass windows depicting scenes of a vampire devouring humans were on either side of him, pews lined the majority of the floorspace, and an altar was at the very center of the room. Oliver's Echoes of the Dead skill activated, allowing him to hear quiet voices that surrounded him.

"It wears master's clothing," a voice whispered.

"It fights our pull."

"A guest of master?"

"No."

"A sacrifice?"

"Can we dirty master's clothing?"

"Is it a sin?"

"Will master forgive us?"

"Perhaps we break his bones from within?"

"Yes! Incapacitate and deliver to master!"

"No mess! So smart!" At first, Oliver saw nothing, but his Uncanny Sight activated as three spirits darted out from within depictions of the stained-glass vampires and rushed at him. They were blurs of white smoke as they flew. He swung his shovel and the hard silver connected with one of the spirits. His tool smacked the white wisp and deflected like a baseball into one of the closest pews. The wooden bench exploded on impact and Oliver heard the spirit whine in pain.

While he managed to dodge out of the way of the second spirit, the third struck his hip. The attack didn't break his skin, as much as pass straight through it. Oliver's bones vibrated and he fell to the stone floor. His entire right leg went numb as his femur threatened to burst out of his skin. The spirit had passed inside of his body and now was attempting to tear him apart. Gritting his teeth, Oliver used his shovel as a crutch and reclaimed his footing.

Just in time as the spirit he'd smacked at the start of the confrontation rebounded in his direction. This time, Oliver met the spirit with a fist full of salt. It screamed and howled as it gained a degree of corporeal physicality and dropped to the floor. Oliver let the salt slip from his fist into its prone body below. It writhed on the floor, sobbing and wailing. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

"It sees us!" the dodged spirit called from over his shoulder.

"It knows our weaknesses!"

"I cannot stay within! It ejects me!" the spirit in his leg cried. It oozed out of his knee and pooled onto the floor. Before it had an opportunity to reform, Oliver shoved another handful of salt into the undead spirit. His newly acquired gear was already helping Oliver substantially. He hadn't expected to put it into use so soon, but it acted as a perfect counter for these spirits. In the past, his low Mental had meant he needed to approach ghost species with mental altering attacks extremely carefully.

This new enchanted shirt covered that weakness. It rejected possession attempts and made his mind slippery to grasp. With two of the spirits incapacitated, Oliver took a moment to Appraise his opponents. Keeper Spirit of Hyde. Level 41. Keeper Spirit of Secrete. Level 38. Keeper Spirit of Lurk. Level 51. Of course, with Oliver's luck, the one spirit not currently writhing on the floor was the level 51. It hissed at him from across the chapel.

"You will pay. I know Master will forgive blood on his clothes if it means your end!" Oliver's eyes went wide as white blades of ectoplasm shot at him. He dove to the side, splintered wood embedding itself in his arm as he tumbled. The blades exploded, the broken pews scattering further on impact. Ducking and diving, Oliver dodged more attacks. He considered darting out into the hallway, as it was possible that the spirits were tied down to this location.

However, he couldn't be certain and a spirit blasting him with attacks down the hall would bring all sorts of negative consequences. He decided to keep the fight contained to this room if possible. Crouched behind the stone altar, one of the few objects in the room that the spirit's blades couldn't seem to penetrate, Oliver peered around and took stock of his enemy. The chapel's tall ceiling worked against Oliver, as it let his opponent hover out of reach.

Having learned his lesson from the fight with the pirates, Oliver wasn't particularly keen on the idea of throwing his shovel mid combat again. He initially intended to avoid drawing attention, but the spirit left him with no other option as it continued to blast crescent blades of ectoplasm in his direction. By now, the chapel would already be little more than an unlit bonfire when he departed. No point in holding back a bit more fuel for the flames. Bang! A silver bullet passed through his opponent.

As the bullet plinked off the stone behind the spirit, it left behind a white smear. The ghost howled in outrage. Its essence quickly worked to reclaim the hole's empty space, but Oliver noted through his Uncanny Sight that the spirit as a whole went a shade more transparent. A visual representation of the spirit fading. It wasn't anything he'd ever noted before he acquired the skill, which meant his skill still likely held more subtle aspects he'd yet to pick up on.

While the spirit recovered, Oliver got to work quickly spreading salt in a circle around his feet. That should act as a protective barrier to keep the ghosts from attempting to possess pieces of his body again. Then he reloaded his pistol and prepared for another shot. His heart fell when he peered around the stone altar. The remaining ghost, instead of rampaging in fury like Oliver had hoped, had instead focused its efforts on getting its fellow spirits back into the fight.

Like their shot companion, the two other ghosts existed a shade more transparent than they had been before he imprisoned them in salt, but they were now free. A blur announced the attack of one of them. It slammed into the salt circle and bounced off it. The tinkle of glass let Oliver know without even looking that its rebound had shattered one of the stained-glass windows. Lurk, the level 51 spirit, hissed and dove into the stone floor. Oliver took aim at the level 41 spirit as it whizzed around the room. Bang!

The corner of his lip twitched into a smile as he hit dead center on the moving spirit. His proficiency skill was nothing to be scoffed at. The spirit's white form bulged and it struggled midair for a few seconds, shaking and swaying. Then it popped like an overfilled water balloon. A kill notification nailed Oliver's certainty. No amount of tricks could fake the leveling system. One down, two to go. Apparently, the strongest spirit wasn't about to let its brethren's death go unanswered.

The stone tiles under Oliver's feet bulged. Rather than attack directly and smash its essence into his salt barrier, the spirit had passed into the floor under them and pressed its attack from below. The salt circle's effectiveness wouldn't be able to pass through the thick stone floor. Smart. Oliver vaulted out of his protected circle and onto the altar at the exact moment that the floor exploded. In a crouch, Oliver pivoted and swung his shovel in a long sideways arc to build the maximum momentum.

Right as the spirit turned in his direction, the silver blade of the shovel chopped into its ectoplasmic neck. It howled as he jerked the tool to the side and ripped out a chunk of its being. Not waiting for it to recover, Oliver sprayed another handful of salt. As he did so, his heart skipped a beat. He'd been dipping into his reserves freely this fight. Only as his fingers scraped the bottom of the salt pouch in his bag did he realize that he was running low. Maybe half a handful of salt remaining after this.

Oliver put that out of his mind as he shoved the salt into the spirit's face. He needed to prioritize survival right this movement, not worry about hypothetical disadvantages in the future fights. Sitting on consumable resources was a fast way to meet death. With the spirit immobilized by the salt jammed into its noggin with his left hand, Oliver used his right hand to swing the shovel again.

The weakest of the spirits attempted to interfere; it zigzagged through the air and did what seemed to put forward its best banshee expression as it screeched expletives at Oliver. It arrived too late. The kill notification alerted Oliver to the level 51's death right as it collapsed into ooze. That wasn't the only notification. Another level up had gone through as well. But he set that thought aside, not able to afford the break in his concentration.

Oliver ducked behind the altar right as the final spirit zipped over his head. Despite its incorporeal nature, it still took the spirit time to alter its momentum and shoot back in his direction. Those precious few seconds were exactly what Oliver needed. It bounced off the chapel's stone wall and continued to screech as it approached at a high velocity. This time Oliver remained steadfast. The spirit slammed into his raised hand the same moment he pressed the trigger. Bang!