My Necromancer Class

Chapter 355  Buying Time

Matheson nursed the warp charge, his key to freedom, gently in his lap as he watched the raging red energy furiously burn against the calm blue energy. Since getting it he spent many hours watching it, learning its ways, meditating on his thoughts. One was as deep as the ocean, the other a consuming fire—but neither claimed victory, an eternal struggle as long as it sat in the jade-green container.

The calm never quells the rage. But the rage can’t overcome it. The silent depths holds its own resilience. He thought.

But did giving up myself make me like either?

Stashing the warp charge away, Smiley gave one last glance at a drip coming from the wall. The constant tapping was unnoticable at first, but over the last few days it became louder. Every drop another poke in his mind, another shout in his ear, slowly driving him insane. He knew the tiny, insignificant droplets would either drive him forward or cause his destruction.

With warp charge in hand, he left his pathetic dwelling and slipped out of the academy grounds unnoticed, towards the bamboo demon dungeon.

After a quick scan of the surrounding forest to make sure there were no witnesses, he approached the entrance. He carefully placed the warp charge down and steeled himself, clenching his grip around his blade as he slowly pulled the sword out. It was nothing compared to the flame-sword he wielded, but to him, that ruby-gem masterpiece was just another crutch.

They can take my sword. I’ll give them my name. But they’ll never take my indomitable spirit, for within my soul an unwavering flame burns brighter than any possession or birthright.

Sliding his foot back, he pulled the blade back.

*Crack!~ BURRR!~*

A rumble of thunder broke from its gilded cage. A blue storm broke free, filled with arcs of red lightening. The tip of the blade melted away.

Smiley’s hair raised. He jumped back, sensing danger as it the energy began to sear the ground around it. The dungeon entrance responded, cracking open with another rumble and a gale of wind.

Smiley’s eyes widened as he watched a portal form. Blue in the center, a ring of crackling red power around the outside.

His only chance at escape was here. He was well aware of the consequences, the chance this may cause his death, and he accepted them wholeheartedly. Ignoring all caution, he jumped right in, as quickly as he did so when he entered the mirror reality.

Smiley felt his skin burn, his body torn and put back together, but after a moment he landed on solid ground.

*Huff huff huff*

Blood trickled down his arms and dripped off his sword. He felt pain like this before, but grit his teeth and fought back against it while his body healed itself.

Smiley heard a creak in the shadows; a bamboo forest surrounded him. A familiar wooden demon came charging but was cut down disappeared into nothingness.

He grit his teeth and threw his partly-melted sword on the ground. before him.

Smiley looked around, his eye winced as he noticed he was back in the bamboo demon dungeon. Behind him, the portal to the mirror reality was already closing; he watched as it shrank and disappeared into nothingness.

He grit his teeth and threw his partly-melted sword on the ground. He clenched his fists and held them at the sides of his head as he closed his eyes, his face scrunching in painful anger as he knew he had failed; though he didn’t shout or curse in fury.

Another demon approached, but instead of picking up his sword, Smiley glared at it, his killing intent causing it to halt in its tracks, if only for a moment.

The demon lunged forward, its splintered-covered claws lashing. Smiley lunged back with as much speed, sending his fist into its jagged face, cutting open his kunckles.

He grabbed whatever part of its body he could and began to crunch his fists into its body.

“Grh!” He screamed, ignoring the pain in his hands. “Grah! Graahhh!” He yelled in the demons face as his bleeding fists drove into its body, ignoring the pain. His fury outmatched the demon, making it seem as helpless as a straw scarecrow while its body turned the smaller and smaller splinters.

Even as it crumbled and fell he kept pummeling, separating its body into pieces even after it died. After a moment of silence he finally stopped, leaning down on his knees with his blood-covered fists propping him up.

Sweat ran into his eyes and began to pool up like tears. Anyone else would have cried pitifully, but not him.

Smiley’s face turned back to an empty stare. He wiped his sleeve across his eyes, stood up, patted the dirt from his knees and the splinters off his clothes.

“You failed. Try again. Again,, again, and again.” He whispered, and stashed his half-melted sword into his inventory before leaving the dungeon.

Outside, he glanced around the entrance. Even the melted scorched marks that the warp charge had disappeared. It was like it never happened, the only thing different were that some dark cracks had appeared in the fake sky, but it was nothing he hadn’t seen before.

Smiley knew he was back in the mirror reality, and slipped into the forest, then back to his basement room where he cleaned himself up.

He gave one last glance at the dripping wall as he lay in his bed, closing his eyes. But instead of it bothering him, he felt there was something soothing about it as it lulled him to sleep.

***

Loki grinned as he held a ornamental hair clip in his hand, reading the engraving on its underside, which read Heather’s name in cursive writing.

It was easy for him to snatch it, using his switching-power to swap it with an ordinary one. With her special hair clip, he knew he could enlist her powers to help him bargain with Smiley.

Like Loki, Heather was someone as insignificant as he was, so there was no one she could turn to for help—until he would offer his hand to aide her in ‘finding’ the hair clip he had stolen. Her powers were to separate something into different forms, breaking them down into distinct parts. For example she could turn a bronze spoon into two smaller spoons of copper and tin, or a bamboo demon into a pile of wood and a harmless demonic shade; however without its physical body she had no way to kill a shade, making her power quite redundant, even when used on other dungeon monsters.

However, Loki was sure she could harness her powers and separate the two energies inside the warp charges, separating them into their blue and red parts for Smiley to experiment with.

Of course, Loki had no clue if any of it would work, and he wondered if Smiley would even succeed with the first warp charge, but none of that mattered. It was all just another bargaining tool to him.

As for the next steps of his plan, he planned to steal two more warp charges this very night. Normally taking one was risky enough, but it seemed that the academy staff were distracted with something else, and a number had left to investigate the forest and the teleport staging area, leaving their warp charges with even less security than usual.

***

~Pocket Dimension, Message Relay Station~

 Between the real world and the mirror reality, a pocket dimension existed, filled with nothing but frozen white mountains and blizzards.

Apart from the sheer icy cliffs and snow storms, only one building stood here. A grand, lonesome tower with no doors or entrances stood against the endless storm, which functioned as a message relay between the mirror reality and the real world.

The very same relay station that Anya’s father, Sullivan, had sent his message through about the variant necromancer. Its keeper, an old bald man, caressed his flowing beard as he stood facing a wall. The tower only had two spade-shaped windows, each window a link to each reality, but now, a third was beginning to appear on a separate wall.

It began only as a vague shimmer, but its curved details and window frame were starting to show themselves. Something, or someone, was trying to connect with either the pocket dimension, the mirror reality or the real world.

Of course, he fought it. His robes began to sway as he waved his arms into a spell, fighting back against whatever this was, chanting the spell until the shimmers of the third window would disappear. He only had to weave this spell once per week, but as the shimmering became stronger, the spell became a daily practice.

The old wizard wondered if he was truly stopping it, or merely buying time.