Swordsman's Regression: Reawakened as a Necromancer-Chapter 144: Clocktower of Regret

"Attack."

First, they came out like cold flames, until their forms expanded from the depths of his wide gauntlet. Thirty streaks of brilliant, azure blue beings, expanding and unfurling like ragged storm clouds.

Percival’s Demon Summons: the Nightwraiths were here.

This time, they were not the Gate World’s green children of despair. They had been overwritten, corrupted by the King of Death, and now they burned with the chilling, blue color of his Necromancer Class.

The blue Wraiths shrieks were loud enough to drown out the Vampire Bats’ and even the sound of the grinding gears.

They were like furious flies as they slammed directly into the diving swarm of the green Vampire Bats.

It was an absolute massacre of opposing energies.

The brilliant tactical advantage of the Demon Summons immediately became very clear.

As the physical Bats dove to rip the Skeletons off the walls, the translucent Wraiths simply phased through the climbing bone-warriors.

They attacked from all angles, swooping in with no coordination at all. Just a purpose: to kill the Bats.

When a Vampire Bat tried to attack a Skeleton, a Nightwraith dived right into the beast, rapidly aging its flesh and draining its life force in seconds.

Burning green ash began to rain down into the boiling blood lake below.

Lewis stopped dead on the rusted iron stairs, his jaw dropping as he stared at the swirling vortex of blue and green magic. "Wait... are those... are those the Nightwraiths?!"

"Keep climbing!" Percival roared, shattering the Arcanist’s shock.

As the madness continued, the ascent was now completely clear of enemies, all they had to do now was focus on outrunning the rising blood lake.

"Pardon the intrusion, Arcanist," Mercius rumbled beside Lewis.

"Huh?"

Before Lewis knew what was happening, the tall Knight grabbed him around his waist and held him close to his hips.

"What’re you doing?!"

Mercius bent his knees, the rusted stairs groaning as he launched himself upward like an engine. He cleared twenty steps in a single bound and continued in the same fashion.

Lewis groaned comedically, his arms and legs flailing in the air as he was carried like a sack of flour. "I am a respectable Awakenerrrr!" his voice trailed off as Mercius leaped away.

Percival wasn’t far behind. He chained ⸢Grave Step⸥ consecutively, teleporting from landing to landing, and using his Speed when the Skill was in cooldown.

⸢2:00⸥

⸢1:40⸥

⸢1:20⸥

The clock was ticking down relentlessly, but without the swarm hindering them, they devoured the distance faster than in the first two tries.

Within moments, they reached the landing at the top of the tower. Mercius landed with a heavy THUD and unceremoniously dropped Lewis.

The Arcanist hit the stone floor with a pained grunt, scrambling away from the edge.

Behind them, the shrieks in the air died down.

The last of the Vampire Bats had been drained into husks. So, with their purpose completed and their chaotic energy spent, the thirty azure Nightwraiths dissolved into wisps of blue smoke, streaking back across the chasm to sink seamlessly back into Percival’s chest.

Percival immediately rushed to the edge of the landing, gripping the stone railing as he looked down into the colossal shaft.

All around the curved inner walls of the tower, his ten Skeleton Warriors were still climbing. They looked like pale, macabre spiders clinging to the vibrating, gear-crushed masonry.

But below them, the sea of boiling blood was rising with terrifying speed. The red steam was already licking at the heels of the lowest Skeletons.

"This isn’t going to work," Lewis gasped, crawling to the edge beside Percival, his face pale beneath the soot. "Look at the time! Look at the lake! There’s not enough time for all of them to reach the levers. The blood is going to catch them!"

Behind them, the glass clock ticked down mercilessly.

⸢00:45⸥

"Just watch," Percival said, his jaw locked tight.

Twenty feet below and across the chasm, the highest Skeleton finally reached its target. It jammed its bony feet into a crack in the stone, reached up with both hands, and grabbed the heavy iron chain of the lever.

With a violent upward jerk, it pulled the rusted mechanism. CLACK.

They all heard the sound of the lever locking into place. Then, another sound.

DUM!

The massive bell tolled a single, short note. They turned around at the clock behind them. The numbers changed, but not in its normal way.

⸢00:55⸥

Ten seconds had been added to the timer. More time.

Percival’s eyes widened as he felt a fierce surge of triumph flare in his chest. "I was right!"

Lewis gasped in shock. Mercius only watched in silence.

"Pulling the lever adds ten seconds, and that buys more time to pull the others." He looked down at his Skeletons with anticipation. "Now I’m even more certain that pulling them all will stop the clock altogether."

Lewis looked at Percival with a hopeful grin on his face.

The Necromancer returned the Skeleton Soldier back into his Summon Space. Then, together they watched in suspense as more levers were raised.

⸢00:38⸥

Another Skeleton reached a lever. CLACK.

⸢00:48⸥. Percival reclaimed it after.

Two more pulled theirs in unison. CLACK. CLACK.

⸢00:40⸥

⸢00:50⸥

However, the clock was still ticking down naturally, and the boiling blood was rising faster, furiously trying to consume the intruders before they could break the loop.

The Skeletons were forced to climb faster, their bony fingers slipping on the superheated, blood-slicked stone.

CLACK. ⸢00:41⸥

CLACK. ⸢00:36⸥

CLACK. ⸢00:32⸥

Tension strangled the air on the landing. One by one, the levers were raised, and the Skeletons vanished into blue fire.

Until only one remained.

⸢00:20⸥

The Skeleton had struggled to navigate around a spinning brass cog, and now, the sea of boiling blood was practically touching its skeletal feet.

"Come on..." Lewis whispered, gripping the railings.

⸢00:18⸥

⸢00:17⸥

The Skeleton reached out, its hand inches from the heavy iron chain.

Suddenly, a massive bubble of superheated blood burst from the lake directly beneath it. The boiling crimson splashed upward, completely engulfing the Skeleton’s lower leg.

The intense, supernatural heat instantly melted the death mana binding its bones together.

The Skeleton let out a hollow, raspy shriek as its leg dissolved. It lost its grip on the wall.

A splash followed as it fell backward, swallowed entirely by the churning, boiling lake of blood. It boiled to death in an instant.

⸢Skeleton Soldier defeated⸥.

"No!" Lewis cried out with despair. "We were so close!"

Percival stared for only a moment. He turned to the clock. ⸢00:10⸥. Then he looked at the unraised lever, heart pounding.

There was still time. Time to do something.

He reached over his shoulder and gripped the long, dark haft of the War-Scythe.

He pulled it free and held it tight. He knew he and this weapon had a complicated history. He was a Swordsman by nature; he wasn’t perfectly attuned to the awkward, top-heavy weight of the scythe.

They’ve had their ups and downs.

But right now, he couldn’t afford to be anything but perfect.

Percival stepped up to the very edge of the stone landing. He planted his left foot forward, brought the massive weapon back, and locked his eyes on the iron lever protruding from the wall across the vast, sweltering chasm.

⸢00:05⸥

He hurled it.

Percival put every ounce of his monstrous 1,050 Strength into the throw, spinning the weapon end-over-end.

⸢00:03⸥

The heavy polearm turned to a kind of blurring wheel, whistling through the air. It arced over the rising sea of boiling blood, a desperate projectile flying toward the shadow of the wall.

Lewis held his breath. Mercius remained still.

⸢00:02⸥

The curved blade of the War-Scythe struck the bottom of the iron lever. Because of the tremendous, upward rotational force of the spinning weapon, it acted like a sledgehammer, forcefully pushing the rusted lever upward into the locked position.

CLANG... CLACK!

⸢00:01⸥

DONG!

The massive bell behind them boomed, sending a chill down their spin.

The War-Scythe, its momentum spent, bounced off the wall and tumbled downward, plunging into the boiling blood lake where it instantly melted into slag.

They all turned to the glass clock. It was frozen exactly at ⸢00:01⸥.

Everything had come to a complete, shuddering halt. The grinding of the colossal brass gears, and the boiling blood lake.

Everyone on the landing stayed still, hearts pounding violently against ribs.

Lewis stared into the center of the tower, his eyes wide, sweat dripping from his chin. "Did it... did it work?" he whispered, terrified to speak too loudly lest he trigger the reset.

For a long, agonizing moment, no one moved. A part of Percival’s mind braced for the nauseating feeling of the time warp.

But the world remained perfectly still. Then, a deep, heavy groaning of metal broke the silence.

They turned to the source of the sound. It was the sealed iron door beside them at the end of the landing. Dust rained from its frame as the locking mechanism—finally freed from the time loop—disengaged.

With a long, drawn-out creak, the heavy doors slowly swung inward, revealing a dark, opulent hallway beyond.

⸢Congratulations! You have successfully survived The Clocktower of Regret⸥.