Ch-17: Trying to Conquer the Light

A/N: Forget about my prior comment where I said, sunlight doesn't weaken him. It does, because of the absence of shadows that make him strong. Yes he can use his other skills but his shadow skills become weaker.

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A week had passed, and Ethan had settled into the comforts of his new home. Even as a skeleton, he found the queen-sized bed with its quality mattress to be godly and comfortable.

'Who would've thought I'd still find a bed so comfortable,' Ethan mused, rising from the bed. 'Guess some habits die harder than others.'

He willed his Armor-Slime back into his inventory before walking towards the bathroom.

Walking into the bathroom, he appreciated the sensation of cold water cascading over his skeletal form as he turned on the faucet.

The relief of still being able to feel sensations through his bones was amplified in these situations.

The cold water invigorated him, each drop a symphony of sensation against his skeletal frame.

'Hot and cold, life and death—funny how the simplest things can remind you of what you once had,' Ethan thought, a wry smile forming on his lipless face. 'Who knew a skeleton could appreciate a good shower?'

He chuckled to himself as the water washed away any grime. 'It's the little things in unlife, I suppose.'

After his shower, he willed the Armor-Slime to form into a crisp black shirt, trousers, and boots, feeling a sense of normalcy in the routine. The clothes clung to his frame perfectly, enhancing the human silhouette he projected despite his true nature.

Stepping out of his room, he saw Alfred already dressed and ready. Alfred was clad in a sharp, three-piece suit that exuded an air of polished elegance. His black woolen blazer, matching vest, and trousers fit perfectly, hinting at his refined taste.

Beneath the vest, a crisp, white dress shirt was buttoned up neatly, complemented by a silk tie in a slightly lighter shade of black.

"Good morning, Master Blackett," Alfred greeted, his voice a calm and steady presence.

"Morning, Alfred," Ethan replied, admiring his servant's impeccable dress. "You look as dapper as always."

Alfred bowed his head slightly. "Thank you, Master Ethan. I aim to uphold a standard of excellence."

"So, what's on the agenda for today?"

Alfred adjusted his tie and replied, "I'm planning to open a bank account today, and I have to attend the auction where your jewelry is being sold, Master Ethan."

"How will you open a bank account? You don't have any legitimate documents," Ethan asked, curious about what Alfred had in mind.

Alfred smiled lightly. "In the past few days, while pawning the jewelry you brought from the dungeon, I developed some much-needed connections. Today, I am going to get my documents legitimized through a corrupt official I came to know while selling a piece of jewelry."

Ethan agreed. "Good thinking. Focus on things that will increase your reputation and social circle. Politicians, especially."

Ethan paused for a second, thinking, then said, "That reminds me, we need to find a senator named Brandt. He'll be the key to getting the last vial of the Super Soldier serum."

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "The last vial, Master Ethan? Do you not intend to rescue Dr. Abraham Erskine?"

Ethan sighed, shaking his head. "Saving Erskine will bring unnecessary attention and risk to us. Stealing the serum from Kruger while he's running away with it will be far more subtle and hidden."

Alfred nodded in understanding. "A wise decision, Master Ethan. But don't you think having Erskine alive could benefit us in other ways?"

Ethan considered this for a moment. "It's a risk we can't afford. Erskine's survival could change the timeline in unpredictable ways. Our priority is to remain unseen and secure what we need without altering too much."

Alfred's gaze softened. "A prudent approach, Master. I shall proceed with your instructions."

"Thank you, Alfred," Ethan said, appreciating his servant's unwavering support.

Alfred gave a slight bow. "As always sir, I am at your service. I shall take my leave now."

"Good luck, Alfred," Ethan replied, watching as Alfred turned and left the room, his footsteps echoing through the hallway.

As the door closed behind him, Ethan felt a sense of determination settle over him. The path ahead was fraught with challenges and that meant he needed to become stronger.

'Unfortunately, I can't jump into a dungeon right now. I will have to find another way to get stronger for now. Maybe, I could jump into the war, take out Nazis, see if they give me any EXP to level up,' Ethan thought, looking at the notification panel in front of him.

[{Initiate Dungeon Delve} - Wait 358 days to refresh.]

Ethan sighed, making his way to the garden in the back.

In the past week, Ethan had gained good control over his new abilities. He could now use his two primary skills almost instinctively.

However, he found that his skills were far less effective in sunlight, where shadows and darkness were scarce. This limitation frustrated him, and he spent considerable time in the garden practicing, hoping to find a way to use his powers even in the bright light of day.

The garden, with its high hedges and dense foliage, provided a decent environment for practice. Ethan stood in a shaded corner, feeling the coolness of the shadows around him.

He extended his hand, watching as tendrils of darkness swirled around his skeletal fingers. In the dim light, the shadows moved fluidly, responding to his thoughts with ease.

'This is good, but not enough,' he mused. 'I need to find a way to harness this power even when the sun is at its peak.'

Ethan stepped into a sunlit area, immediately feeling the strain on his abilities. The shadows weakened, the tendrils becoming faint and sluggish. He focused harder, trying to pull the darkness from the minimal shade provided by a nearby tree.

The effort was exhausting, but he managed to form a weak tendril that flickered in and out of existence.

'There must be a way,' he thought, pushing himself to maintain the tendril. 'If I can control the shadows even in daylight, I won't have to rely solely on the cover of night.'

The hours passed, the sun moving across the sky, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow.

After practicing for hours, Ethan came to realize that forcefully using his abilities in sunlight rapidly depleted his mana. He still wasn't able to activate his skill to cover his body in darkness and meld into the shadows.

However, he noted that perhaps with far more mana and greater control over darkness and shadows, he could achieve that level.

For now, as a Shadow Skeleton, his skills were those of an assassin. Only when he advanced to a Shadow Skeleton Mage would he be able to reach the potential of controlling shadows and darkness more freely.

'It's a matter of patience and growth,' he thought, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow. 'For now, I need to work with what I have.'

His mind raced with strategies, potential uses for his skills in different environments, and ways to maximize the shadows he could find or create.

One idea was to use the shadows cast by everyday objects. Even in bright daylight, there were always small patches of shade under trees, cars, and buildings.

He could use his Shadow Meld skill to momentarily blend into these small shadows, making quick escapes or hiding from enemies for brief moments.

'If I can train myself to instantly identify and jump into these micro-shadows, I could move almost undetected even in broad daylight,' he thought, a smirk forming on his bony face.

Another tactic involved his Shadow Sense. By sensing the presence of shadows, he could anticipate the movement of others.

For example, he could use the shadow cast by an approaching enemy to sense their presence before they even saw him. This would give him a critical edge in ambush scenarios.

'Using Shadow Sense as an early warning system is a pretty good idea, kinda like Haki but a lot different, I guess,' Ethan considered, feeling a surge of confidence in his plan.

With renewed resolve, Ethan continued his training. Now that he had clear plans in mind about what to achieve, his training speed increased significantly compared to the earlier, aimless efforts.

His movements became more precise, his focus sharper, as he honed his skills with an almost obsessive determination.

Ethan first worked on his Shadow Meld skill, concentrating on the small patches of shade cast by various objects around the garden. He practiced slipping into the shadows of trees, the gaps between hedges, and the darkened corners of the garden walls.

Each time he melded with the shadows, he felt a slight tug on his mana reserves, but he persisted, determined to extend the duration and effectiveness of his concealment.

'If I can master this,' he thought, slipping into the shade of a garden bench, 'I can evade detection even under the harshest light.'

He spent hours moving from shadow to shadow, forcing his body to adapt to the rapid transitions. It was exhausting, and his mana reserves dwindled quickly, but he could feel himself improving with each attempt.

His transitions became smoother, his control more refined. The shadows seemed to welcome him more readily, embracing him as one of their own.

'Good,' he mused, wiping a non-existent bead of sweat from his brow. 'This will be invaluable in the field.'

Next, he focused on his Shadow Sense. He closed his eye sockets and extended his awareness, feeling for the subtle shifts in light and darkness around him. He could sense the presence of birds flitting through the trees and the insects scuttling along the ground.

The ability to sense these minute changes in his environment gave him an almost supernatural awareness of his surroundings.

'An early warning system,' he thought, smiling to himself. 'I'll know they're coming before they know I'm there.'

He practiced this skill until he could maintain it without conscious effort.

Once activated, it would become a natural extension of his senses, a silent sentinel alerting him to any potential threats until he eventually canceled it.

Ethan also experimented with creating his own shadows. He fashioned cloaks and umbrellas from his Armor and weapon slimes.

By casting shadows where none naturally existed, he gave himself more opportunities to meld and hide. It was a rudimentary solution, but it worked, providing him with a portable source of darkness to augment his abilities.

'Simple, yet effective,' he thought, manipulating the slime into a dark cloth over his head and feeling the cool embrace of the shadow it cast.

The hours flew by, and as the sun began to set, casting longer, deeper shadows across the garden, Ethan felt a surge of energy.

The tendrils of darkness responded more readily, wrapping around his arms and flowing from his fingertips like extensions of his own will.

He practiced manipulating the shadows, shaping them into tendrils, forming them into cloaks, and using them to conceal his skeletal form.

'Progress,' he thought with grim satisfaction, watching the shadows dance at his command. 'I'll conquer the light, just as I've conquered the dark.'

As twilight descended, Ethan stood in the garden, surrounded by the shadows he had tamed. He looked up at the darkening sky, a sense of determination burning within him.

'Whatever comes next,' he vowed, clenching his skeletal fists, 'I'll be ready.'

And with that, he retreated back into the house, sensing Alfred's arrival.

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[Alfred's POV]

12 hours ago...

Alfred turned around and walked out of the villa, his footsteps echoing softly in the early morning stillness. He carried a suitcase filled with the documents he had forged with Mr. Smith's help.

Settling into the driver's seat of the Lincoln Continental, he started the engine, the car purring to life, and drove out onto the road.

His destination was Manhattan, where he would meet with Commissioner Regan, a corrupt officer he had recently come to know. He had met Regan while selling a piece of jewelry, and their mutual interests had quickly aligned.

As the cityscape of New York blurred past him, Alfred's mind buzzed with thoughts and plans. 'Increasing my influence and expanding my circle of acquaintances is paramount,' he mused. 'In times like these, it's not just about wealth but about connections. Friends in high places can open doors money cannot.'

He then considered the importance of finding Senator Brandt. 'Brandt will be essential,' Alfred thought, his hands steady on the wheel. 'His connections and influence could grant us access to critical resources and information. He's also the key to getting the last vial of the Super Soldier serum, which Master Ethan has emphasized as crucial.'

Then, Alfred's thoughts drifted to the idea of investing in war efforts. 'The money from the jewelry sales could be funneled into supporting the war. Not only would this build a positive public image, but it would also align us with powerful individuals who appreciate such contributions. Reputation is everything, and in these tumultuous times, aligning oneself with the right cause can open many doors.'

The drive through New York was relatively smooth, and soon enough, Alfred reached the office of Commissioner Regan. The building was unassuming, a stark contrast to the bustling life of Manhattan outside. Alfred parked the Continental and walked inside, carrying the suitcase confidently.

Inside, Commissioner Regan's office was dimly lit, the smell of stale coffee lingering in the air. Regan, a stout man with a balding head and sharp eyes, looked up as Alfred entered.

"Ah, Mr. Pennyworth," Regan greeted with a sly smile, leaning back in his chair as Alfred entered. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Alfred gave a polite nod. "Commissioner Regan, it's good to see you again. I have a small matter that requires your assistance."

Regan's eyes gleamed with interest. "Does it now? And what might that be?"

Alfred placed the suitcase on the desk and opened it, revealing the documents. "I need these documents legitimized. I trust this will not be an issue?"

Regan raised an eyebrow. "What kind of documents?"

"Titles, deeds, and identification papers. All quite... valuable, I assure you," Alfred said, his voice dripping with persuasion.

Regan's eyes narrowed. "Let me see them."

Alfred handed over the forged documents, and Regan scanned them carefully. His eyes widened, and a greedy glint appeared in his eye.

"Very well, Mr. Pennyworth. I can help out a friend. Just $1,000, and we'll call it a deal," Regan said, his voice firm but eager.

Alfred smiled, his eyes never leaving Regan's face. "I expected as much, Commissioner. Here's the payment, and a little extra... for our continued friendship."

The transaction was swift. Regan signed off on the forged documents, legitimizing them with his authority. Once the papers were in order, Alfred handed over a bundle of cash as the agreed fee.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Commissioner," Alfred said, closing the suitcase and standing up.

"The pleasure is all mine," Regan replied, pocketing the money. "And remember, if you need anything else, you know where to find me."

Alfred nodded, leaving the office with a sense of accomplishment. The documents were now legitimate, another step forward in their plans. He returned to the Continental and started the drive towards the Antique auction.

As he navigated through the busy streets, Alfred's mind was already on the next phase of the plan.