Swordsman's Regression: Reawakened as a Necromancer-Chapter 141: Race To The Top

"Vermin!" Mercius bellowed as he swung the massive sword in an upward motion that shattered the bones of four Bats at once, their burning corpses raining down into the blood lake.

A shockwave followed that impact, spreading through the chamber and causing the blood lake to respond in waves that splashed against the steps, some burning the sole of Lewis’s boots.

It was difficult to do anything else but focus on the race, the race to the top. Even thinking was hard, although Percival usually worked best in times like this.

He naturally hated the heat, and here, the heat was hellishly unbearable. It rose from the blood lake like it wasn’t even a physical sensation anymore.

It was purely suffocating; fully intent on stopping him from reaching the top. It baked the air in Percival’s lungs and caused the metal of his dark armor to grow uncomfortably warm against his skin.

If not for his armor’s Aspect, he wondered how much worse it would have been.

Even worse, the Demon Bats were relentless. They screeched and cried, vibrating against his eardrums, threatening to deafen him.

Still, he pushed them all aside like white noise and ran four steps each toward the giant clock.

TICK. TICK.

⸢01:45⸥

The massive brass gears in the walls groaned, their interlocking teeth churning out a rhythm of pure mechanical malice.

Percival looked up to check the time, and thank the gods he did, because he was able to see the incoming danger just in time.

"Get down!" he suddenly yelled, grabbing Lewis by the collar of his robes and yanking him forcefully as another pendulum crashed into the wall, sending a shower of pulverized rock cascading, and fell inside the rising crimson.

"Let’s go!"

A fraction of a second later, another bladed pendulum swept out from the darkness, whistling through the exact space Lewis’s head was occupying.

Percival grabbed him by the collar and ⸢Grave Stepped⸥ some distance ahead.

Lewis shrieked, but realizing he was fine, he thanked Percival. "Thank you! Thank you!"

"That’s the third time I’m saving you in seconds! Do you not have any leaping or defensive skills?!"

"I’m a very slow caster! You wouldn’t want me wasting time just to cast a Skill that barely makes a difference."

Percival glared at him, frustrated. Lewis was right. He turned to the clock, trying to get a good view so he could ⸢Grave Step⸥, but even the stairs were too shadowed, and the angle was difficult.

"Away from my Lord!"

Mercius suddenly leaped over them and swung his sword vertically, creating a holy slash that turned a swarm of Demon Bats into Demon ash.

He turned to Percival and Lewis, eyes burning azure. "We must move, Master."

Lewis blinked at the terrifying Knight, still astounded that the Brackenbutcher was bound to the Hero. Percival, focused, shoved him forward.

"Climb!"

They climbed. The spiraling stairs seemed endless, wrapping around the interior of the hollow tower while massive brass gears ground against each other, threatening to crush them if they stepped too close to the inner wall.

The boiling blood was rising faster now, chasing them like a living predator. The red steam hissed against the iron supports, melting the stairs they had just abandoned into molten slag.

"⸢Arcane Volley⸥!" Lewis chanted desperately, throwing his hands forward. A cluster of golden mana bolts shot into the air, detonating against a wave of Bats trying to detach from the ceiling.

"⸢Entropy Wave⸥!" Percival poured a wave of corrosive mana that instantly withered a circle of Bats surrounding them.

"We’re almost there!" he called out.

Through the dizzying maze of swinging pendulums and grinding cogs, a massive stone landing came into view. At the back of the landing stood a towering, sealed iron door etched with a fractured clock face.

Mercius vaulted onto the landing first, his heavy boots cracking the stone. He spun around, creating a wall of holy fire to cover their ascent.

Percival and Lewis sped up the final few steps, and collapsed onto the solid ground just as the boiling blood surged up to lick the edges of the platform.

It stopped rising and began to rush out of the holes he discovered earlier.

Percival spun toward the massive iron door. He stepped up to it, pressing his gauntlet against the freezing metal, expecting it to grind open.

They had done it.

He turned around to the giant glass clock now behind them.

⸢00:05⸥

⸢00:04⸥

⸢00:03⸥

"Get ready," Percival breathed, tightening his grip on his scythe. "The door is about to open."

⸢00:02⸥

⸢00:01⸥

⸢00:00⸥

BOOOOOOOM.

The massive bell at the apex of the tower tolled, rattling their teeth.

"Did we do it?" Lewis asked, looking at Percival. "We did it—!!"

DUMMMMM!!!

Suddenly, the chamber smeared into violent streaks of red and black. Percival felt a sudden, nauseating sensation of falling violently upward, his stomach dropping into his boots.

They all heard the sound of grinding gears reverse into a higher pitch, like something squealing in unbearable agony.

"Ahhhhhh!" Lewis cried. "What the hell is going onnnnnnn?!!!!"

SLAM!

Percival stumbled forward, his boots hitting rusted iron grating.

He blinked rapidly, shaking his head to clear the profound dizziness and the ringing in his ears.

The blistering, suffocating heat of the blood was gone. The thick red steam was gone. The air in his lungs was cool and stagnant again.

He looked around. Mercius stood to his left, his greatsword lowered. Lewis was on his hands and knees to his right, gagging dryly.

Behind them were the heavy iron doors they had first entered through.

At first, Percival’s logical mind forcefully rejected what his eyes were showing him. He didn’t want to believe it.

But as he looked out over the massive, dry pit below, and stared up at the impossible, spiraling climb stretching into the glass clock above, the truth was impossible the deny.

It seemed they were right back at the very bottom of the tower.