Swordsman's Regression: Reawakened as a Necromancer-Chapter 136: How to See Ghosts

The burning Knight surged forward, his heavy spectral boots cracking the petrified floorboards.

He raised his Paragon Blade; even with the blue flames that covered the sword, holy magic was still the essence of the great weapon.

It was the great, natural anathema to the demonic darkness that was choking this library.

A cluster of Nightwraiths, shrieking as the radiant light scorched their incorporeal forms, tried to dive into the safety of the towering bookshelves.

But of course Mercius was faster, regardless of his size.

He swung the greatsword, creating a wave of blue and gold holy energy. It sliced straight through the solid oak of the shelves and intersected with the fleeing demons.

Six of the Nightwraiths didn’t even have time to scream. The holy magic violently disrupted their dark structure, igniting them from the inside out.

They flared like dying stars for a fraction of a second before crumbling into glowing white ash that drifted harmlessly to the floor.

⸢You have killed six Nightwraiths⸥

⸢+700 EXP (×6)⸥

The remaining Wraiths, with no deadly dead Knight chasing them, had the time to escape, sinking deep into the floorboards and melting into the pitch-black corners of the ceiling.

Silence returned to the library.

Percival lowered his War-Scythe and looked down. Lewis was panting. He reached out, grabbed him by the collar of his robes, and dragged the trembling Arcanist to his feet.

"Stop shaking. Take a health potion and recover your HP," Percival ordered, scanning the dark corners.

Lewis fumbled for a vial from his HP, uncorking it with rattling teeth. He downed the liquid, gasping for air.

"How..." he choked out, staring at Percival’s calm demeanor. "How are you not affected? The dread, the cold... how are you just ignoring it?"

"I have a Gate World Aspect infused into my armor," Percival replied flatly, his attention still on the shadows.

Lewis stopped coughing, his eyes bulging. "A Gate World Aspect? Already? I’m Level 113 and I’ve never even gotten one! How did you get one so early?"

Percival ignored the question. "The dread has reduced now that they’ve gone into hiding," he said. "But they aren’t gone. Keep your eyes peeled for another attack. Mercius, watch our flanks."

"Understood, Master," the Knight rumbled, standing stoically, his burning eyes sweeping the open air.

Lewis wiped his mouth. He looked at the towering, armored phantom standing guard, then at Percival. Then again at the Knight

He gasped.

"Is that..." Lewis whispered. "Is that the Brackenbutcher?"

Percival didn’t intend to answer, but Mercius interrupted regardless.

"They are here again, Master," the Knight reported.

Percival immediately raised his scythe, scanning the room. Lewis spun around frantically.

"Where? Where?!" Lewis cried out. "I can’t see anything!"

Percival’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. The air was freezing again, but the space around them was completely empty.

"They’ve activated their invisibility again. How’s your illumination skill?"

"It’s still charging up! It’s on cooldown!" Lewis said, stepping backward blindly.

Suddenly, he let out a wretched, hollow cry. "Ugh!"

He was thrown backward, collapsing onto the wood. "Something... something just entered me... and went right out!"

Percival stepped over to him and looked down at his face.

He grimaced at what he saw.

The young, fresh-faced Arcanist was gone. The skin around Lewis’s eyes had instantly gathered into deep crow’s feet.

His cheeks had hollowed out, losing their youthful elasticity, and a thick streak of dull, ashen gray had violently painted itself through his brown hair.

He had aged ten years in a single second.

’It’s their aging Skill,’ Percival thought. ’The Time-Thief’s Touch.’

"Why? Why are you looking at me like that?" Lewis asked, terrified.

Percival’s expression turned deadly serious.

"Tell me! Is something wrong with my face?!"

Percival hauled him up by the arm. "Stand up!" he commanded.

When Lewis found his feet, the Necromancer quickly tapped into his Swordsman class, funneling his mana outward. "⸢Radiant Guard⸥!"

The dome of shimmering, solid mana projected around the three of them, acting as a barricade against physical and magical strikes.

But a second later, Mercius spoke without moving. "Master. One just passed through me as well. It holds no sway over my form, as I am already dead... but your shield did not impede it."

Percival cursed under his breath, looking at the glowing dome. ’Even my mana shield can’t stop them from passing through.’

They were annoyingly powerful. Even with Mercius’s light, they were only weakened; it wouldn’t stop them from passing through barriers to strike.

Nightwraiths. Demons that were totally incorporeal, invisible, and at the moment, intent on bleeding them dry through hit-and-run tactics.

Percival looked at his Soul Soldier. ’Mercius can kill them, but he needs to actually see them first. Or at least know where they are."

He turned to Lewis, who was hyperventilating, staring at his aging hands.

"I’m older." He looked at Percival with pure terror. "You didn’t tell me that I grew older!"

"What are you doing being so scared?!" Percival roared, grabbing the terrified Arcanist violently by the collar, pulling him close. "If there’s anyone in this room who can see those things right now, it’s you!"

Lewis blinked, his aged eyes wide with confusion. "What? How’s that?!"

"They’re mana!" Percival admonished him, shaking him once. "How haven’t you noticed? These Demons aren’t like Beasts. They are not flesh empowered by mana, but mana made flesh!"

He pushed Lewis back, pointing a heavy, gauntleted finger at his chest.

"You’re an Arcanist. You can interact with mana better than any Class in this world. Stop relying on your active skills. Focus on the ambient mana in the room."

Then he pointed outward. "Fish out the areas of disruption. Feel for the spots where the mana is darker, colder, hovering close to us. Point to the ones preparing to strike!"

Lewis stared at him. "I... I can do something like that?"

Percival growled in absolute frustration. "If you want to know more of what you’re capable of, just do exactly what I tell you to!"

Before Lewis could brace himself, a sudden gust of freezing wind blew right through his chest.

Lewis screamed, dropping to his knees. The gray in his hair spread like a plague, turning his entire head a stark, brittle silver. Deep lines carved themselves into his forehead and around his mouth.

He was suddenly a man well into his late forties, his joints popping as he hit the floor.

"Do it before you grow old and die in this place!" Percival barked.

Panic finally overrode the Arcanist’s cowardice. Lewis scrambled up, trying to stop panting like a mad man.

"Okay. I’m doing it now."

He shut his eyes tight and locked his hands together in a prayer-like pose.

"Now just focus," Percival guided, looking around as he spoke. "Feel the room. Forget your body and focus on your soul, your mana frequency can tap into outer mana frequencies like iron and magnet."

Lewis gritted his teeth. He stopped looking with his eyes or feeling with his body and pushed his consciousness out into the room.

At first, there was only darkness. Then, slowly, his Soul Core began to interpret the ambient mana in the room, visualizing it like smoke waves.

It was everywhere. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

But as he concentrated, he noticed the disruptions.

Within that stagnant grey mist, he saw rifts. They moved against the current in darker forms. They were dense, like a being rather than pure energy.

And they were circling the golden dome of Percival’s shield.

Lewis’s heart pounded. The Hero was right!

He could see them. The Nightwraiths; he could see all of them. It was terrifying, but he could tell that they couldn’t see him.

He felt one of the black voids suddenly contract, coiling like a spring, before launching itself directly at them.

Lewis quickly thrust his finger out, pointing blindly into the empty air.

"Knight, to your left!"

Mercius moved like a thunderbolt. He pivoted on his heel, dragging the Paragon Blade upward and slicing the space Lewis had pointed with holy light.

They all heard a horrific shriek as the Nightwraith instantly lost its invisibility. It manifested for a single second—a terrifying shroud of shrieking emerald—before the Paragon Blade cleaved it cleanly in two.

It collapsed into a shower of white ashes.

⸢You have killed a Nightwraith (Lvl 60)⸥

Lewis lowered his shaking hand, staring at the falling ash.

"That was awesome."