Swordsman's Regression: Reawakened as a Necromancer-Chapter 129: Thread of Fragility

In the Neverglades, inside the swarm-type Gate World, Aethelstan had Deron pinned against the canyon wall, his forearm pressing against the white-haired knight’s throat.

"I... I was helping!" Deron choked out, his hands gripping Aethelstan’s vambrace, trying to pry it loose. His eyes were wide with genuine confusion. "You were open! The beast would have got you!"

"I had it under control!" Aethelstan roared, his face flushed a dark, ugly red. "I was baiting it! I was setting up my Solar Strike! And you—you clumsy, glory-seeking fool—you stepped into my light!"

"Prince, stop!" Corvell shouted, rushing forward but stopping short of grabbing royalty.

"Please, Aethelstan, Get off him," Teson begged.

Nessa shadow jumped into the fray. She finger-struck Aethelstan on his elbow.

Suddenly, the prince’s arm went numb, his grip faltering. Nessa placed herself as a barrier between them both when Aethelstan stumbled backwards.

"What the hell are you doing?" the Prince roared at her, clutching his dead arm.

"That is enough," Nessa said, her voice freezing the air around them. "Why are we wasting our time fighting when there’s more of those beasts coming our way."

Aethelstan tried his arm, panting like he had just ran a marathon. He looked at the circle of faces—Corvell, Teson, Nessa—all looking at him with a mix of fear and judgment.

He straightened his spine, smoothing his golden armor with a trembling hand. He didn’t apologize. He didn’t even look ashamed. He continued to look down on them.

"Do not forget your place," Aethelstan hissed, pointing a finger at Deron, who was rubbing his bruised throat. "I am the Leader. I call the shots. I am the Sun of this party, and you are the shadows cast by my light. If I do not order it, you do not move. Is that understood?"

Deron looked at the ground, his jaw tight. "Understood... Prince."

"Good." Aethelstan turned his back on them. "Form up. We’re wasting daylight."

Twenty meters back, Ugmar the Dwarf leaned on his hammer, watching the scene with a scowl.

"Pretty boy, isn’t he? Kekekeke. Like a peacock with a sword," Ugmar grunted low in his throat. "Preening while the rest of us do the work. If he wasn’t royalty, I’d have fed him his own teeth by now."

Beside him, Dagna, the Druid, seemed very interested in the altercation. "The pride of the Human Prince was not an exaggeration, it seems," she murmured, more to herself than the Dwarf.

She watched Aethelstan march away, a small, cold smile playing on her lips.

"Perhaps," she whispered, "we can use this. It will make my... true mission... much easier to execute."

After finishing the threat, they moved deeper into the Gate.

The Gate World narrowed, the walls turned from translucent yellow to a dull grey hue. The air grew hotter, and it smelled like sand and steel.

⸢Encounter Zone 2: The Iron Tunnels⸥

The ground here wasn’t mulch; it was hard, jagged rock. And the sound of the Hive had changed.

It wasn’t a buzz anymore. It was a rhythmic clank-clank-clank, like a thousand smiths hammering on anvils.

"Movement," Nessa detected, looking around the place. "They’re coming from all sides."

From the shadows of the tunnels, they emerged.

⸢Threat Detected: Iron Carapace Ant (Lvl 38)⸥

They were tank-sized monstrosities. Their exoskeletons weren’t chitin; they were organic metal, gleaming with a dark, oily luster.

Their mandibles were like hydraulic pincers, snapping with enough force to shear through plate armor.

"Same formation!" Aethelstan ordered, not even looking at his teammates or the terrain. "Wedge! Push through!"

The problem was; the terrain was narrower, and this enemy was different from the Bees earlier.

"Prince, there’s no room for a wedge!" Teson shouted, his sword deflecting off an ant’s head with a shower of sparks. "They’re too hard! My sword is bouncing off!"

"Then get a better sword after this or just hit them harder!" Aethelstan screamed back.

He launched a Sun Blade attack, striking the lead Ant. Usually, his sword cleaved through flesh. This time, it carved a shallow groove in the iron shell, merely annoying the beast.

Teson hid a laugh at the sight. Perhaps you too should get a new sword, Prince.

The Ant roared and rammed Aethelstan with its shoulder. Even though it used all its force, the Prince was shoved back just by a few inches.

"Don’t think you can beat the chosen one of Evernia!"

He jumped at the beast.

"They’re flanking!" Liraeth shrieked. "My fire isn’t melting them fast enough!"

"Use Ice or Wind to hold them back!" Nessa said as she weaved through giant ants.

The Elemental Mage whimpered. "I’ve only mastered my Fire element!"

Nessa paused. "What— ugh!!"

The hesitation cost her as she was struck by an Iron Ant’s head and sent skidding on the metal floor.

"Lady Nessa!" Corvell cried, immediately using his magic to heal her and refill her energy.

But more kept coming. They poured out of the tunnel ceilings, dropping behind the front line. The formation disintegrated instantly.

"Back to back!" Teson yelled, slamming his shield into an Ant’s face to save Liraeth.

Vadrian, Stenya, Melena and the rest of the Support Party put out their best to keep the Ants away.

It became chaos. Even though the ants were slow, they were unstoppable walls of iron. They pressed in, compressing the party into a tighter and tighter circle.

Aethelstan saw the Beast Source—a towering mound of metallic slag glowing with red energy—at the far end of the cavern.

"I need to get to the Source!" Aethelstan shouted, trying to jump over the swarm.

But three Ants reared up, blocking his path. He slashed wildly, panic beginning to fray his technique.

The ants struck him on both sides, compressing him like a sandwich. The third hit him in his chest, but he managed to raise his sword in time to stab through its gut.

He had killed another, but he was still stuck in the army of Iron Ants. They were all stuck.

"We’re going to get crushed!" Ugmar grunted, holding back two jaws with the haft of his hammer.

The Ants continued to box them in. The others defended while the Healers stayed in the center, using their magic to keep everyone buffed and healthy to fight back the onslaught.

"I don’t wanna die!" Liraeth cried.

Corisande turned her head to Liraeth. Then looked at the rest.

She saw Bromm bleeding from a gash in his leg. She saw Deron fighting three ants alone. She saw the Prince failing.

We’re going to die, she thought. Just like the statues.

Fear gripped her throat.

As a Healer, someone dying in your presence was the most shameful thing.

She couldn’t let it happen. She couldn’t let anyone die here.

Knowing what she had to do, she closed her eyes. Carefully, as she had been taught, she reached into the deepest, coldest part of her mana pool—the part she was afraid to touch.

She activated her S-Grade Skill.

"⸢Thread of Fragility⸥"

Right then, for a second, the world seemed to slow down. The sparks flying from swords froze in mid-air. The roaring ants became statues.

From Corisande’s chest, thousands of translucent, glowing white threads exploded outward.

They were light green in color, and moved like living nerves. These threads weaved through the chaotic battlefield. They passed through the armor of her fellow Heroes without touching them, but when they hit the Ants, they burrowed.

Zip. Zip. Zip.

The threads stitched themselves into the iron carapaces of every single ant in the cavern.

⸢Defense Down⸥

⸢Health Siphoned⸥

⸢Structure Compromised⸥

When it was done, the world snapped back to speed.

Corisande collapsed to her knees, gasping as if she too had also run a marathon, her mana pool instantly drained to critical levels.

"Die!" Bromm roared, swinging his axe in a desperate, blind haymaker at the Ant in front of him.

He expected it to bounce.

Instead, the axe bit into the iron shell like it was cheap wood.

CRUNCH.

The Ant’s head exploded.

Bromm blinked, staring at his axe. "What?"

To his right, Deron thrust his sword. It pierced the "impenetrable" carapace of another Ant effortlessly, sinking to the hilt.

"They’re weaker!" Deron shouted. "Their armor is gone!"

Aethelstan, seeing the change, didn’t question it. He saw his opening.

"⸢Sun Blade: Grand Cross!⸥"

He unleashed a massive cross-shaped wave of energy. Before, this would have scratched them. Now, it tore through the mob of ten ants blocking his path, slicing them into quarters.

The path to the Source was clear.

Aethelstan sprinted, leaping off the carcass of a dead ant. He flew through the air, his sword glowing like a star.

"Break!"

He brought the sword down on the Metallic Slag Mound.

BOOM!

The Source shattered, exploding into fragments of cooling iron. The red glow faded.

The remaining Ants, their connection severed and their bodies weakened by Corisande’s threads, were killed off by the rest of the team.

The battle ended in sudden silence.

"We... we’re alive?" Liraeth panted, wiping soot from her face.

"Who did that?" Teson asked, looking at the corpse of an ant. He poked the shell; it crumbled like rust. "Someone debuffed them. Massively."

Corvell, realizing, turned to the center and sprinted as fast as he could.

"Princess!"

Corisande was curled on the floor, pale and sweating. Corvell knelt, channeling a stamina restoration spell into her.

"I’m... I’m okay," she whispered, her voice weak.

The Awakeners turned to look at her. The realization hit them one by one. The Elf Princess, the one with the lowest level and the smallest battle knowledge, had just turned what could have been their last battle into an easy slaughter.

Aethelstan sheathed his sword. He walked back from the destroyed Source, his cape swirling around him.

He stopped in front of Corvell and Corisande.

"Great job, Princess," he said.

Corisande gave him a guarded look then looked away. "Thanks."

Aethelstan said nothing else; he only stared at her with his blue eyes narrowing. He was assessing her value, realizing for the first time that the "decoration" he had been saddled with was actually a weapon of mass destruction.

Behind him, Liraeth watched the Prince staring at Corisande. Her hands curled into fists, smoke rising from her fingertips. Her eyes burned with a green light that had nothing to do with magic.

Jealousy.

"She just got lucky," Liraeth hissed under her breath. "Just a lucky trick."

"Move out," Aethelstan ordered, turning away from the Healer. "We have two Zones left before the Boss."