Swordsman's Regression: Reawakened as a Necromancer-Chapter 90: Guide of Fire

⸢Attributes⸥

⸢ Strength: 535/1,020⸥

⸢Agility: 330/950⸥

⸢Speed: 420/900⸥

⸢Constitution: 400/970⸥

⸢Intelligence: 490/760⸥

⸢Luck: 550/550⸥

⸢Dexterity: 385/785⸥

⸢Perception: 390/830⸥

⸢Charisma: 1190/1190⸥

Percival groaned. Just as he suspected.

He had only wanted to check just how much his attributes had depleted over the course of this Gate World Clearing, but he’d always been feeling the effects right after they left the Mangrove.

His muscles ached with fine fatigue. Each swing of the scythe had cost more than mana.

After dodging the geysers, his Agility and Speed were spent. His body’s resilience was sapped by relentless punishment and mental strain.

He also felt dizzy. Maybe sleepy.

Hells. Percival badly needed sleep.

But this was the real cost.

Not merely his Mana or Health, but the erosion of self. Attributes ran down as well and the only way they could be refilled were through sleep and the incredibly rare Power Ups.

Health Potions and Elixirs were the secondary resort for when HP and MP were lacking, but they couldn’t mend the frayed edges of one’s spirit or grant the deep, cellular rest Percival’s body screamed for.

He would have to manage these Attributes till the end, or pray for a Power Up along the way.

How long has it been outside? he wondered.

Time in Gate Worlds was a fickle, dilated thing. An hour here could be a day there, or three days.

The uncertainty was its own weight.

But Percival already had enough to carry, worrying about the outside world would only distract him from his endless mission here.

But to move on, he needed more tools. Things would only get more difficult from here.

First, he checked his Skill Points balance.

⸢Skill Points: 17⸥

That was a lot. But he knew it didn’t mean he could purchase whatever Skill he desired. Skills were still locked to whatever his present level was.

That said, he willed his Necromancer Skill Tree into view.

The spectral, branching diagram unfolded in his HUD, glowing with cold blue potential. Available nodes hovered, priced in the Skill Points he’d accrued.

⸢Available Skills for Purchase:⸥

⸢Blood Sacrifice: Convert a larger portion of your Health into a portion of Necromancer Mana. Efficiency scales with Skill Level. Mana = Health ÷ 1.5⸥

⸢Cost: 5 Skill Points⸥ ⸢B-Grade⸥

⸢Reaper’s Veil: Shroud yourself in a mist of death energy for a short duration. Greatly increases evasion, dampens presence, and minor movement speed boost⸥

⸢Cost: 3 Skill Points⸥ ⸢C-Grade⸥

Percival stared at ⸢Blood Sacrifice⸥.

It struck him like a Skill that was heavensent, yet tempting in a malicious way.

Converting a portion of his Health into Mana, especially when the return was lesser than the cost, felt like an invitation to self-destruction.

But the more Percival thought of it, the more advantages he could see.

This Skill was valuable when he was exceptionally low on Mana, and could afford to lay back, stay in the rear, and allow his Undead Summons to do the battle.

Not only that, he had an incredibly high reservoir of HP and could afford to lose more than half of it without breaking down in battle—

—well, as long as his Attributes weren’t spent.

And finally, which was the most important part at the moment; this Skill would be incredibly helpful for his last act when he faces the Boss of the Gate World.

With that, Percival’s decision was made. He purchased ⸢Blood Sacrifice⸥ and ⸢Reaper’s Veil⸥. The latter would be very useful for escape when his Strength and Health was depleting.

⸢Skills [Blood Sacrifice] and [Reaper’s Veil] acquired.⸥

As the Skills joined his Skill Tree, his eyes caught the two that he had purchased back in the Gate World Hall.

⸢Soul Bind: Borrow the Attributes and a single Skill of a nearby corpse for 14 seconds. Corpse is consumed and cannot be Awakened afterward⸥

⸢B-Grade⸥

⸢Entropy Wave: Release a cone of necrotic energy that corrodes armor, weakens flesh, and slightly slows targets. 2% Bleed Damage⸥

⸢C-Grade⸥

His eyes lingered on them, realizing he had never had the breath to use them. Entropy Wave paired well with the scythe’s wide swings. Soul Bind was a trump card—a way to steal a powerful skill from a fallen foe for a critical moment.

How come it had never crossed his mind to use any of them, especially back in the Highbards’ Old Fort.

Percival tightened his lips. He resolved to using his Skills more, especially one as overpowered and functional as ⸢Soul Bind⸥.

With finality, he pushed himself up. That was enough rest for now.

Well, not enough rest—but as much rest as he could allow himself to enjoy.

Rest was a luxury for the dead or the victorious, and he was not fully either yet.

A geyser burst out of the earth some distance away. Percival ignored it and cast his eyes around the Volcanic Stone Land.

He’d returned his Skeletons Soldiers to their Summon Space. During the battle, he’d lost a total of six. Percival planned to replace them later.

For now, he turned his focus to the corpses around him.

He moved through the carnage, interacting with each one until he claimed all claimable loot.

At least the one he deemed valuable.

⸢Loot Obtained:⸥

⸢Saurian Pincers (×42)⸥

⸢Molten Gland Sacs (×18)⸥

⸢Beast Cores (Lvl 66-68) (×22)⸥

⸢Saurian Scale Armor (×36)⸥

⸢4,700 Mana Coins⸥

⸢8 Health Potions⸥

⸢5 Elixirs⸥

Finally, he approached the remains of the Magma Elder. The stone body was cold and dark.

Where its heart had been was a glassy Beast Core.

⸢Beast Core (Lvl 80)⸥

As Percival claimed the stone, he noticed the staff clutched in the withered hand of the Elder. At close range, he could now examine the unique item.

It was a twisted, spiraling length of black basalt, capped with a perpetually smoldering knot of crimson crystal.

When Percival picked it up, the crimson crystal glowed.

⸢Unique Item Acquired: Magma Elder’s Heartstaff⸥

⸢Grade: B⸥

⸢Aspect: Guide of Fire - Channels and amplifies fire/earth elemental magic. Can temporarily animate stone constructs.⸥

⸢Attack: +70⸥

⸢Dexterity: +15⸥

B-grade. A genuine treasure.

It might have been utterly useless to him in a fight, but he knew it was potentially invaluable for trade or a specific summon later. He stowed it carefully.

With the Encounter Zone now cleared, Percival reached into his inventory and withdrew the Beast Source of the Mangrove Battlefield.

The beautiful flower pulsed in his hand as Percival stared emptily at it.

By now, he expected the Guild Parties to be painfully worn out, fighting an endless swarm of Draconian Stalkers and Swamp Wyverns with no way of escape.

He decided that was enough punishment. And, it also bought him enough time.

If not for what he did, the Guild Parties would have caught up to him, and with their numbers, they would reach the Gate World Boss before him.

He couldn’t let that happen. The Basilisk Blade was on the line.

With a huff of indifference, Percival tossed the Beast Source to the ground. As it rolled aimlessly, he outstretched his hand, ⸢Void Slashing⸥ the flower into dead halves.

Back in the Mangrove Battlefield, the Guilds were still engaged in the endless battle with the Draconians and Wyverns.

The Heaven’s Blades cried and swore as they slaughtered through scales and bones.

Golden Spires growled and leapt, bulldozing their way through packs of Draconians.

Iron Guards smashed and struck, taking down as many as they could while few men fell.

Fire balls, lightning strikes, mana balls and other offensive magic hurled from and to every direction.

One Heaven’s Blade Awakener, his face half-masked by the black ash of a nearby explosion, didn’t even pause to wipe the soot from his eyes as he drove his High-Grade Sword through the charred throat of a reeling reptilian warrior.

Around him, his brothers were wading through a rising tide of hot, green blood that steamed in the sudden chill of the arcane-charged air.

They weren’t just fighting anymore; they were swimming in a sea of viscera, their greaves were heavy, so where the armor, even their damn swords. Mages were tired of hurling the same spells at monsters that just wouldn’t end.

In time, they noticed that the numbers were finally reducing. The beasts had stopped spawning.

The Golden Spire Leader’s eyes widened. "The bastard Hero did it! He destroyed the Beast Source at last!"

"Are you sure, sir!"

"Yes! Can’t you see they’ve stopped spawning! Now, Awakeners! Kill them all! Clean it up!"

"Go! Blades! Go!"

"Destroy this Encounter Zone, Iron Guards! We shall feast on the loot!"

Percival could almost hear them where he stood.

He ignored it and returned his focus to the path ahead. The final stretch awaited. According to his regressor’s memory, the next zone was the last before the Boss’s.

Just one more, he told himself, the thought was a mantra against the fatigue. Clear the final Encounter Zone. Then face the Boss.

He drank one of his Health Potions, feeling the knit of minor cuts and the easing of deep bruises.

He drank an Elixir, the mana flowing back into his core, not filling it, but bringing it to a respectable level.

⸢Health: 20350/27350⸥

⸢Necromancer Mana: 800/2250⸥

⸢Swordsman Mana: 3600/5000⸥

It would have to be enough.

Turning his back on the corpses of Scuttlers and their king, Percival Nightstar walked toward the far wall of the Volcanic Stone Land, where a new, darker archway had formed in the rock, leading deeper into the heart of the Gate World.

Into the final challenge before the end.