Swordsman's Regression: Reawakened as a Necromancer-Chapter 74: Upgraded Skeleton Equipment

As if it didn’t want him to leave, the mud of the marsh clung to Percival’s boots with a greedy, sucking sound. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

It made his steps heavy, but Percival ignored the resistance. He kept his pace steady, his eyes fixed on the horizon where the flat monotony of the wetlands was beginning to break.

He knew what was coming.

The map in his head—etched from the memories of his past life—was clear.

Very soon, the horizontal slog would end, and he would arrive at the hellscape where danger lay in the sky, the earth and under the earth.

The next Encounter Zone was the Mangrove Battlefield.

Walking in there with his present loadout was a daring risk, Percival thought.

But there was a way to fix that.

His mind drifted to the spectral legions resting within his shadow.

He didn’t need to physically summon them to check their status. He merely summoned his interface.

43 slots out of 46 were full. Sixteen of them were his initial Skeleton Soldiers who he had cleared Gate Worlds and slaughtered a noble family with.

Percival focused on the original sixteen. In his mind’s eye, he saw them standing in the void of the Soul Space, still clad in the Merman Warrior sets.

The golden scales and hardened coral armor had been a deciding factor in his recent triumphs. But now? Against what was to come in the next Zone?

They might as well be wearing wet paper.

"Time for a wardrobe change," Percival muttered to the empty air.

With a thought, he stripped them.

Inside the inventory, the Merman gear returned to the storage banks. He was notified that his inventory was almost full, so he sent the armor into the salvage.

Curiosity led him to select the salvage icon.

⸢Salvage: Using materials from other undead equipment, you can create your own spectral armor, weapon or Artifact⸥

⸢Unlock at Lvl. 50⸥

He paused. ’Oh.’

It was a very functional and exciting mechanic, but like many of his Necromancer credits, he would have to unlock it.

Well, it was something more to look forward to at Lvl. 50.

He continued with his objective.

Accessing his loot from the Highbard massacre, Percival selected the armor of the elite guards.

⸢Furnace Steel Mana-Infused Armor Set - B Grade⸥

⸢Property: Fire Mana-Infused Metal⸥

⸢Aspect: Extra durability and Explosive Strength⸥

⸢Defence: +20 | Agility +16 | Constitution +16 | Strength +20⸥

He highlighted 16 Skeleton Soldiers; both Skirmishers and Rangers.

⸢Equip 16 Skeleton Soldiers with Furnace Steel Mana-Infused Armor Set?⸥

"Yes."

Percival couldn’t see the transformation but he felt his Skeletons grow stronger, fortified by the armor on their bones.

He watched the stats increase with a determined look in his eye, knowing how strong he needed them to be for what was coming.

Or at least, where he was going.

⸢Armor Set has been equipped⸥

⸢Stats of equipped Skeleton Soldiers increased⸥

The Furnace Steel Mana-Infused Armor set was a terrifying combination: tank-level durability with the speed of a scout.

But armor was only half the equation. They also needed to kill.

He tabbed over to the weapon selection. For his thirteen Skirmishers, he chose the ⸢Blazeforged Blades⸥.

⸢Blazeforged Blades - C Grade⸥

⸢Property: Conductive Flamerock Metal⸥

⸢Aspect: Heat and flame conduction⸥

⸢Attack +25 | Dexterity +12⸥

Percival remembered these swords vividly.

When the Highbard guards had swung them at him, they had erupted with arcs of searing, orange fire. It was a crude, elemental enchantment designed to burn flesh.

But as the weapons materialized in the grip of his undead soldiers, something fundamental shifted.

The enchantment met Percival’s mana signature and was corrupted.

The Necromancer’s influence flooded the steel, choking the oxygen out of the fire. The orange flames flickered and died, instantly replaced by a cold, spirit blaze of ⸢Soulfire⸥.

It still conducted fire. But this time... Soulfire.

Percival thought that was awesome. If all his Skeletons could use ⸢Soulfire⸥, it meant more output. It meant faster kills.

For his three Rangers, he assigned the Phoenix Bow and Arrow.

The recurve arrows had tips burning with ⸢Soulfire⸥ and the phoenix runes on the bow glowed azure as well.

⸢Attack +19⸥

⸢Dexterity +15⸥

Satisfied, Percival shifted his focus to the rest of his legion: the twenty fresh recruits he had raised directly from the corpses at the Old Fort.

They were a mixed bag.

The luckier ones had risen wearing the same Furnace Steel and Blazeforged gear as the Old Guard, indistinguishable from the veterans.

But the others...

Percival frowned slightly as he checked the remaining loadouts.

A handful were clad in Titan Silverwrought Armor and wielded True Runestone Swords.

⸢Titan Silverwrought: Defense +15 | Agility +10 | Constitution +10⸥

⸢True Runestone Sword: Attack +18 | Dexterity +10⸥

It was a step down compared to the Furnace Steel Mana-Infused Armor and the Blazeforged Blades, but still better than the Water Swords and fish armor.

He instinctively went to upgrade them, to bring the whole platoon to a uniform standard, but his finger hovered over the interface.

⸢Furnace Steel Armor: 0⸥

⸢Blazeforged Blades: 0⸥

The stockpile was empty. He had stripped every dead guard he could find, and this was the limit.

The realization brought a sour taste to his mouth.

He was tapped out.

Well, the armor was still good enough to aid in this battle even though they didn’t have the ⸢Soulfire⸥ buff.

His eyes drifted to the top of his inventory list.

There, sitting in isolated slots like artifacts in a museum, lay the gear of the Awakeners he had killed.

The Knight’s mythril plate. The enchanted robes of the Mages. The heavy, bespoke weaponry of the younger Awakeners who had thought they could kill a Necromancer.

This was A-Rank and high B-Rank gear. He wasn’t even sure his Skeletons could use them.

It would be for a Soul Soldier. Mercius already had a powerful arsenal, so he didn’t need this. But more Soul Soldiers awaited in Percival’s future.

He closed the ⸢Undead Inventory⸥. The spectral window vanished, leaving him back in the humid reality of the swamp.

He felt ready.

His legion was more fortified than ever; clad in magic steel and wielding soul-cursed weaponry.

Bring it on, Mangrove Battlefield.

Percival took a step forward, expecting the soft give of the mud.

Thud.

His boot hit something hard.

There was no more squelching of the marsh.

Percival stopped and looked up. The endless, flat horizon of the swamp had simply erased itself.

Rising before him like the bars of a prison cell were roots. Titanic, grey pillars of wood that twisted and interlocked, shooting hundreds of feet into the air.

Percival narrowed his eyes, reaching for the hilt of his sword.

He had arrived at the Third Encounter Zone.