Chương 25: 025

The moment the offer left my mouth, I wanted to snatch it back. What the hell was I thinking? I was level two. Level two. If my endurance stats reflected my body from Earth, I'd be winded after a brisk jog, hardly ideal for outrunning an undead army. Still… was Silas really the better choice? He looked decades older than me, his movements stiff, his frame softened by years behind a throne. If anyone was likely to collapse before reaching the trap, it was him.

Unease churned in my gut as I imagined leading an army of the dead to its grave, but I shoved it down. Failure wasn't an option. If Silas fell before drawing them in, we were finished. And even if he succeeded, his death would leave the kingdom leaderless when it needed stability most. I had Bramble's Embrace. I had Fast Forward. Between the two of us, I was better suited for this, squishy or not. But Silas shook his head, resolve etched into every line of his face.

"No. We need you positioned above the trap. If the fire fails, you must finish them. Your power will be most effective in a confined space." His gaze sharpened.

"You are our trump card." Relief flickered, quick and unwanted.

"Are you certain?" I asked.

"I am." He pressed his palm to the glowing rune embedded in the wall. A staff member hurried in moments later, bowing deeply.

"Escort this young man to my personal armory," Silas ordered.

"He may choose whatever suits him. Then see him stationed above the trap. I will follow." The staff member, a woman with sleek cat ears, turned to comply, but I stopped her.

"Wait. The girl. I left her with one of your guards." Silas's expression softened.

"Yes. Maya." He sighed.

"She's been placed with the other civilians. She'll be safe. You may see her once this is over, but for now, we must act." This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Reluctantly, I followed the cat-eared woman from the study. A thread of unease lingered, winding tight in my chest. I forced it down. Maya will be safe. I'll make sure of it. The armory lay only minutes away. Inside, artifacts lined pedestals in gleaming rows, magic humming faintly in the air.

The woman bowed and withdrew, leaving me alone. I lifted a chest plate forged from red metal that shimmered like embers, and frowned. How was I supposed to know what worked against undead? No labels. No guides. As if answering the question, a translucent box snapped into existence. Fireforged Plate Mail Forged by legendary dragonkin smiths, this armor grants fire resistance akin to dragon scales. Special Bonuses: Fire Resistance Tempting, but useless. Heavy armor would slow me to a crawl.

Most of the artifacts followed the same trend. Blades, shields, heavy gear. No robes. No staves. Then I saw it. A single staff rested against the far wall, wooden, sturdy, and etched with glowing runes. A sphere of light hovered at its tip, cradled by living thorns. I lifted it carefully. The menu popped up, and my breath caught. Dawn's Light Crafted from the final branch of Nexus's First Tree, Dawn's Light carries the blessing of light affinity. Said to have once belonged to the Spirit of Life herself.

Once per day: Channel mana to unleash dawn's light, reducing nearby undead to dust. Special Attribute: Mana cost of healing spells is halved. Perfect. Clutching the staff, I left the armory feeling lighter than I had since arriving. We had a plan. We had a weapon. We had hope. We're going to survive this. The thought stayed with me as I was guided to the wall overlooking the trap. Below, the dead end curved inward, stone walls forming a killing funnel.

Archers lined the battlements, armor glinting in the last light of day. No oil in sight, but guards opposite held torches, ready. The sun vanished. Night fell. The air grew taut, every guard bracing in silence. I gripped the staff until my knuckles whitened. Silas would arrive any moment, then the slaughter would begin. Minutes stretched into agony. Then, footsteps. Rapid. Too many. The sound rippled through the dark like a drumbeat. A figure burst into view, sprinting hard.

The ground trembled as the army followed, faster than I'd expected, slowed only by armor. They were too close. I readied myself, magic gathering in the staff. Just as the runner came into focus, midnight cloak snapping behind him, he stumbled. My heart lurched. The undead swarmed instantly, closing in, their mass swallowing him whole. I cursed under my breath. I should've gone. He's too old-. I shoved mana into the staff. Light flared, guards recoiling as the sphere brightened. Then a sound cut through everything.

A shrill, desperate scream that froze my blood.

"Adan!" The cry came from the crumpled figure beneath the undead. Familiar sobs followed, and my breath hitched to a stop. The cloaked figure wasn't Silas. It was Maya.