Swordsman's Regression: Reawakened as a Necromancer-Chapter 158: Power of Sight

Silence filled the crypt; pure, suspense-building silence. The yellow return portal was the only noise, a thrumming that vibrated on the ground.

Lewis took another step back, his boots crunching on the shattered stained glass. He looked at the Basilisk Blade still gripped tightly in Percival’s right hand, its dark steel drinking in the portal’s light.

"You’re... you’re scaring me, Percival," Lewis stammered, his voice thin and trembling.

"Stop the pretense, Lewis," Percival said, cold, detached and uncaring. "I gave you the power of sight. Do you think I did not know the consequences of that?" 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

He narrowed his blue eyes. "Do you think I wouldn’t know the secrets an open eye would be revealed to?"

Lewis froze. The blood drained completely from his face, leaving him pale and ghastly.

No further words needed to be spoken. He knew what Percival was talking about, and Percival knew that he knew.

The two Soul Cores.

Lewis had seen them in Percival’s chest when he first used mana vision. Which meant he knew the impossible reality that Percival possessed two Classes.

Truthfully, at the beginning of his second life, Percival hadn’t truly cared about hiding his dual Class nature. He had been focused solely on survival and progression.

But somewhere along the line, he realized the overwhelming advantage of secrecy. And even more, the disadvantage of revelation.

If the world outside knew he was both a Swordsman and a Necromancer, the sheer magnitude of attention, greed, and target markers placed on his back would be insurmountable.

He had enough attention as the ’Hero’ already.

And, perhaps more selfishly, Percival wanted absolute monopoly. He wanted to be the only one who knew about defeating Demon Gate Worlds.

Maybe in time others would find out. But before then, he wanted that knowledge to be only his.

It could be. Lewis was the only loose end.

"I won’t tell anyone!" Lewis cried, dropping to his knees, his hands clasped together in desperate supplication. "I swear it on my life! I promise! Please, Hero Percival!"

Percival stood completely emotionless.

"You’re a hero, right?!" Lewis sobbed, tears cutting tracks through the grime on his face. "You cannot kill someone in cold blood!"

"That’s not what I’m doing," Percival replied, his tone frighteningly even. "We are going to fight, you and I."

"Fight you?" Lewis choked out a hysterical, terrified laugh. "But that’s impossible! You’re the Hero! Your Talent is infinitely higher than mine!"

"Your higher level balances it out, don’t you agree?" Percival stated simply. "And still, it doesn’t matter. In every battle, one man must be greater than the other."

"I’d do anything! Please!" Lewis begged, shaking his locked eyes, eyes wide with pure terror. "I’ll be your servant! Your cadet! Anything you want!"

Percival nonchalantly lowered his gaze at him. "Why would I risk you betraying me like you did your party? If I am fallen, would you leave me and run like you had done to Willow Lockhart?"

Lewis stopped dead. His mouth hung open, his pupils shrinking to pinpricks. The sheer shock of hearing that name wiped the tears from his eyes.

"How... how did you know?"

Percival said nothing. He just stared, letting the past sins of the Arcanist crush the air out of his lungs.

"What did you expect me to do?!" Lewis suddenly screamed, finally taking a defensive approach. "I’m only an Arcanist! Those things would have killed me too if I ran towards them! I didn’t mean to betray her, I was only trying to live!"

"Trust me," Percival said softly, tightening the grip on his sword. "I am not judging you for running to save your life. I am only saying that... if one isn’t prepared to risk their life for something, then that life isn’t worth being spared."

Percival raised his arm, smoothly spinning the Basilisk Blade in a deadly arc before pointing the dark tip directly at Lewis’s chest.

"Please learn now and defend your life when I attack," Percival commanded. "I do not want to feel guilty if this battle ends rather quickly."

Lewis stared at the tip of the blade. He was panting heavily, his chest heaving relentlessly as he stared at the dark haired Hero.

All he felt was fear. It was obvious that he was going to death. But, as he stared, the terror in his eyes began to curdle, like he was accepting his fate.

And then, it ignited into pure, explosive rage.

"You bastard!" Lewis suddenly shrieked, his voice tearing. He scrambled to his feet, his face twisting with desperation and feral hatred. "After everything we’ve been through in this Gate World?! You want to just dispose of me like that?! What kind of a person are you? Do you even have a heart?!"

The Arcanist threw his hands forward. "I’LL KILL YOU! I’LL MAKE SURE I KILL YOU RIGHT NOW!!!"

Raw, untethered mana erupted from Lewis’s palms, shooting out in a frantic barrage of explosive blasts aimed directly at Percival.

Without missing a beat, Lewis channeled his energy downward, igniting violent mana rockets beneath his boots.

He launched himself across the shattered blood lake, as he materialized his staff in his grip. O. The tip of his staff, golden energy burned, blind and volatile.

Lewis thrust the staff with every ounce of his desperate anger, aiming to pulverize the Hero’s skull. "DIE!"

Percival stood perfectly still. He watched the golden light approach, and he used his Perception to analyze the attack perfectly.

Just as the burning staff was about to connect, Percival simply stepped aside.

The fluid grace of the movement was absolute. Lewis flew past him, carried entirely by his own reckless momentum.

Before the Arcanist could even realize he had missed, Percival pivoted sharply. He thrust the Basilisk Blade backward, and activated ⸢Severance⸥ at the same time.

The blade sheared through the heavy leather of Lewis’s coat, punching straight through his spine and exploding out the front of his chest, perfectly piercing his heart.

"Ughhh!" Lewis gasped.

The golden light of his staff instantly extinguished, clattering uselessly against the stone. He hung suspended on the blade for a fraction of a second, his eyes were splayed so wide like he was peering into the future.

Then, Percival pulled the sword free and the Arcanist collapsed to the ground lifelessly.

Percival stood over the body, staring at the growing pool of red spreading across the stone floor.

He felt a sting of guilt when he saw Lewis’s dead face. But he clicked his tongue, muttering a quiet curse under his breath as he looked away.

Bending down, Percival methodically looted the body. He stripped Lewis of his armor, placing both versions into his normal and his Undead Inventory.

When he was finished, he stood back up, wiping the Basilisk Blade clean before returning it inside the Swordcase.

Finally, he stood alone in the profound silence of the cleared Gate World.

’Another one done,’ Percival spoke in his thoughts.

Without a backward glance at the boy who had fought beside him, Percival turned toward the return portal.

He stepped into the light, leaving the Gate World, entirely oblivious to what awaited him in the outside world.