Chapter 63: No One Will Mourn Your Death

"Boom!"

The massive energy orb exploded, creating a visible shockwave that sent nearby skeletons flying like straw.

Ronan lowered his staff, his gaze fixed ahead.

Before him lay a clear, straight path.

At the path's end stood two faces, etched with shock and confusion, amidst the breached battle line.

"What are you standing there for? Run!" Ronan shouted.

Awoken from their stupor by Ronan's powerful energy missile, Rainey and the hooked-nose wizard sprinted toward him.

Even without activating his domain, Ronan's [Energy Missile], powered by his ninth-level apprentice strength, was terrifyingly powerful, capable of obliterating high-level zero-order spells.

"Huff—huff—"

The two wizards reached Ronan, the hooked-nose wizard panting heavily, unable to erase the shock from his face, his eyes glued to Ronan's staff.

"A first-order artifact?!"

Ronan ignored him, focusing on fleeing.

The hooked-nose wizard, feeling snubbed, could only swallow his pride as the skeletal warriors pursued them relentlessly, unable to complain.

These undead servants, despite being as powerful as mid-level apprentices, were slow and clumsy, allowing the trio to gradually widen the gap.

Approaching the cemetery's edge, they reached a fork.

The straight path resembled their earlier route, but shrouded in thick mist, obscuring the way ahead.

The other path was a glaring red, with a pungent stench of blood assaulting their senses.

Without hesitation, the self-appointed "leader," the hooked-nose wizard, commanded firmly, "This way!"

Without waiting for Ronan and Rainey's agreement, he charged straight ahead.

Ronan frowned but followed silently, Rainey at his side.

As they entered the misty path, the fog swirled violently, as though disturbed, but nothing else happened.

Ronan sensed something amiss, slowing to peer ahead, spotting a dark shadow spreading rapidly beneath the mist.

Memories of the chaotic night in town flooded Ronan's mind.

He halted abruptly, warning, "Don't go further, it's dangerous!"

Rainey, closely trailing Ronan, stopped immediately.

The hooked-nose wizard, oblivious, continued until he too halted, reluctantly.

His insistence on leading had led him straight into the encroaching shadow.

"Swish—"

Ronan heard the sound of a sharp blade slicing through the air.

During the previous encounter, he'd missed the full view of the spell at night.

Now, he saw it clearly—

The dense shadow formed two massive, semi-transparent scythes, wielded by invisible hands.

They slashed horizontally and vertically!

The hooked-nose wizard's energy shield shattered like a fragile eggshell, followed by his body, silently sliced into four pieces, blood and viscera spilling out.

"Ugh..."

The gruesome sight and unknown danger made Rainey retch on the spot.

Ronan quickly urged, "Move," turning to retreat to the fork, choosing the blood-red path without hesitation.

"How do you know so much about the black robes' methods?!" Rainey, suppressing nausea, asked Ronan, his face pale.

After a brief pause, Ronan replied, "I've killed a few... so I know."

"Killed a few..."

Rainey was stunned, disbelief evident on his face, but recalling Ronan's earlier energy missile, it seemed justified.

He followed Ronan closely, staying silent.

The path felt like it was paved with innards, each step in his deerskin boots squishing out a mix of corpse fluid and blood.

Ronan proceeded cautiously, senses heightened.

He was now certain that Faor's promises were lies.

What easiness? What simple destruction?

The dangers they'd faced would have killed ordinary wandering wizards many times over.

"No wonder he's so close to Linus. They're alike—ruthless and cold-hearted."

Faor likely didn't care about the twenty-five gray robes' lives, his comforting words merely a lure into the pocket dimension, their fates irrelevant to him.

Ronan's expression darkened as he considered his next move.

Retreat meant facing the misty shadow and skeletal warriors again. He could likely escape, but Rainey...

As he pondered, they unknowingly reached a foul-smelling river.

The path led across, flanked by murky water teeming with rotting, organ-laden fish.

These grotesque fish swarmed at their feet, gnawing at something, releasing bubbles with a gurgling sound.

Walking amid this unsettling congregation was unnerving even for Ronan.

Yet, the blood path proved the safer route.

Across the river, Ronan remembered their mission.

Eyeing the fish-filled river, he doubted it was a resource cultivated by the black robes. Hesitant, he and Rainey cast spells, killing a swath of fish before moving on.

Beyond the river, a stench of decay grew stronger.

While searching for its source, Ronan saw Rainey staring grimly at a vast field of black flowers.

The field was filled with twisted, grotesque "flowers."

Rotting bodies formed the stalks, white neck bones extending upward, topped with faces spread like petals, each with a serene, sleeping visage.

"Ghost Flowers."

Ronan stood transfixed by the eerie, sinister field, realizing what Faor had intended them to destroy.

These Ghost Flowers, precious to black robes, required vast blood and flesh, took ages to mature, and were used in dark potions and spells, highly valuable.

Ronan had learned about Ghost Flowers from the potion books left by black robes.

Such a large field would delight a black-robed apprentice but terrify a gray robe.

No wonder this pocket dimension was called the Corpse Garden.

"What do we do?" Rainey asked, trying to stay calm. "Destroy these grotesque things?"

Destroy my foot.

Ronan shook his head.

Ghost Flowers were aggressive; once provoked, they'd devour intruders as fertilizer.

With so many flowers, awakening them all would overwhelm even him.

This likely explained the lack of guards.

The only good news was that the flowers were asleep.

"Don't speak. Move quietly through."

Ronan wanted to retreat but decided to press on for Rainey's sake.

Find the others, then another way out.

Throughout, Ronan had analyzed their path.

From the graveyard to the fish river, now the Ghost Flower field.

Each overt threat seemed to lessen.

He felt they traversed the Corpse Garden's back entrance, with the Ghost Flowers at its heart, and the graveyard as a barrier.

If correct, beyond the field lay the front gate, where Faor awaited.

If he turned back, he might survive but likely lose recognition and rewards from the academy as a task shirker.

Silently, Ronan led Rainey into the field, twisted Ghost Flowers standing like corn stalks.

Rainey obediently stayed silent, their footsteps the only sound.

After an indeterminate time, the field's edge loomed.

But the unexpected happened.

Ronan noticed Rainey's footsteps halt.

Turning, he saw Rainey, frozen, wearing an apologetic, fearful expression.

Ronan glanced down, seeing he'd inadvertently stepped on an exposed Ghost Flower root.

It was like the flower's foot.

The flower Rainey stepped on bore a young man's face, quivering awake in pain, eyes widening in shock.

"Whoosh—"

A sudden breeze rustled Ronan's robe.

His strong arm shot out like a javelin, fingers crushing the face before it could sound an alarm.

Meanwhile, his other hand drew a black sword, a cold gleam flashing.

The severed Ghost Flower head was swiftly stowed in his storage pouch.

From incident to resolution took less than two seconds, a seamless execution.

As Ronan calmly sheathed his sword and wiped his bloodied hand on his robe, Rainey was still dazed by his blunder's guilt and tension.

'No next time.'

Ronan mouthed silently, glaring at Rainey.

The latter nodded vigorously, about to promise something when his expression turned to terror, eyes fixed behind Ronan.

Ronan spun, slashing his sword where Rainey stared.

Another Ghost Flower rose, its center a pale face screaming in horror at witnessing its companion's "murder."

Ronan couldn't stop it in time.

"Ah!—"

The scream echoed through the field, piercing the silence.

"Run!"

Ronan knew it was beyond repair, urging Rainey forward.

The scream spread like a signal.

Ronan saw flowers awaken in succession, like a toppled domino effect.

He sprinted, feet kicking up dark red soil, robe billowing.

Raising his right hand, energy particles gathered, light warping.

When the energy peaked, Ronan hurled an energy missile ahead.

The blue-black orb surged like a gale, obliterating everything, shredding countless Ghost Flowers.

As Ronan reached the field's edge, the ground shook.

Something massive erupted from below, Rainey's panicked cry following.

Ronan turned, pupils narrowing at a towering Ghost Flower.

Only half emerged, black tendrils snaked from the hole.

Rainey was ensnared, flailing wildly with his artifact scimitar.

"Damn it!"

Ronan hesitated but couldn't abandon Rainey.

The field filled with screaming flowers, charging angrily.

Ronan ignored them, focusing on the giant flower.

"Fortunately, the face hasn't formed; despite its size, it's only high-level zero-order."

Ronan felt capable, justifying his rescue attempt.

Ghost Flower Kings were notoriously weak inside, their size only due to feeding.

Many black robes used them as guards.

Ronan set his staff down, chanting briefly, unleashing eight bright electric arcs.

[Electric Surge] felled swathes of Ghost Flowers, clearing Ronan's path.

Seizing the moment, Ronan inhaled, launching himself like an arrow, a blur as he leapt at the flower king.

"Ah, Iris, my dear Iris."

Bound by roots, Rainey ceased struggling, gazing mournfully, murmuring, "Forgive my departure, don't be sad."

"Boom!"

Rainey was jolted from his lament by an explosion.

An energy orb detonated beside him, the blast flinging him and the roots high, the flower king's scream echoing.

Rainey tumbled through the field, disoriented and filthy.

As he regained focus, he saw Ronan stepping over shattered flowers.

Ronan bent down, pulling Rainey up, a cold voice in his ear.

"Don't be foolish. Iris won't grieve for you.

She'll enjoy your pension bed-hopping with your best friend."

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