Chapter 81: Dark Souls but Make It Corporate
As Rook and Leo turned, their eyes widened in surprise. "My lord!" Leo exclaimed, and both he and Rook immediately dropped to one knee, bowing their heads in a gesture of profound respect. The gesture was so immediate, so ingrained, it was like a reflex. Karl was taken aback. His minions rarely knelt, unless something of immense significance had occurred. The last time was when he had created them, and even then, their awe was more curious than reverent.
"Stand up," Karl commanded. Leo and Rook rose, still radiating a palpable sense of awe and apology, their forms rigid with deference.
"What’s with the theatrics?" Karl asked, genuinely confused. He saw the action as an inefficiency, a waste of movement.
"It’s humiliating to have you save us, my lord," Rook said, his voice uncharacteristically humble. His pride as a fighter was bruised by their defeat and subsequent rescue.
"We truly apologize," Leo added, his usual slick composure gone. "If it wasn’t for you, we would’ve—"
Karl cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Yeah, yeah, that’s fine. Nobody expected the Dullahan to be that powerful. It’s all good and well, nothing has happened. Just take this one as a lesson." He didn’t understand the depth of their gratitude, seeing his act as a simple, logical solution to a problem. They were his assets, and he protected his assets from ruin.
It was just good business.
The Dullahan, however, could not move a bone. It gritted its teeth in frustration, the sound a dry, rasping scrape of calcium against calcium.
This is one of the disadvantages of the ’Moon Tide’, it thought, its mind racing. It uses up all of my dark mana. The power of the technique is directly proportional to the size of my dark mana reservoir.
The knight stared at the figure in front of him, a being that could summon a throne radiating the purest form of dark mana, a power so ancient and primal it felt like the very essence of the underworld. His mind reeled. But how is that possible? Is he an emissary? Even among the most powerful emissaries, only a few can summon the throne. Lord Thanatos’s throne does not bend to anyone, but how did he summon it? Is this some blasphemous art? Or is he a being of unimaginable power?
Karl, now approaching the Dullahan with Leo and Rook trailing behind, stared at the knight’s immobilized form. "Is he finished or what?" he asked, prodding the knight’s armored boot with his own shoes. He was curious about the mechanics of the creature’s stasis.
"I think so, my lord," Leo replied. "I’d guess after that last attack, all of his energy has been expended. He’s a sitting duck."
"Are you the so-called ’lord’ that they serve?" the Dullahan rasped, his voice strained and filled with both exhaustion and seething animosity.
"Yeah," Karl said with a slight shrug, a gesture completely lost on the knight. "Otherwise, I’d have to replace them. It’s not cheap to craft new minions." The nonchalant sentence, devoid of any emotional weight, sent a shiver down Rook and Leo’s spines. They were not just assets, but individuals with their own souls. Yet Karl’s words held a truth that transcended the simple meaning. They were valuable to him, and in that, they found their purpose.
"I see," the Dullahan said, its voice softening slightly with curiosity. It then asked another question, a flicker of genuine theological confusion in its eyes. "If you don’t mind me asking, are you Lord Thanatos’s emissary?"
Karl, genuinely confused, asked, "Thanatos? Who’s that?" He had never heard the name. It sounded vaguely Greek, but meant nothing to him.
The Dullahan was shocked, the rattling of its bones growing frantic. "You don’t know Lord Thanatos? He is the symbol of death, the god of all dead! How could you not recognize your own god? Even if you’re an Arch-Duke rank yourself with all the dark mana emanating from you, you should be thankful and recognize our lord god Thanatos." The knight couldn’t comprehend a power so immense that it didn’t belong to the one deity he knew and worshipped.
"I’m pretty sure I belong to no god, nor do I belong and serve to any noble factions you guys have," Karl stated plainly. "I am my own god." he paused for effect. "Or at least that’s what my ego says."
"Then... you’re from the Underworld, are you not?" the Dullahan asked, a flicker of hope in his empty eye sockets. The thought of a new, rival kingdom was a concept his mind could grasp.
"Nope," Karl smirked.
"Then you’re an outsider?" the Dullahan pushed, its voice trembling with a desperate need for categorization.
Karl’s smirk widened. "Nope. I’m not an outsider, nor do I belong to anybody. I am the owner of this dungeon."
The Dullahan suddenly shouted, a raw, furious sound that escaped his strained form. "Don’t joke with me! Nobody owns the Underworld! Not even Lord Thanatos has managed to tame the Underworld itself! Nobody owns the Underworld!" Its words were a rejection of not just Karl’s claim, but of the very fundamental rules of its existence.
Rook, without hesitation, backhanded the Dullahan, the sound of metal on metal ringing out. "Lower your voice, old bone," he commanded. The Dullahan had disgraced his lord, a transgression Rook would not stand for.
Karl was confused. Do these guys know that the ’dungeon’ is a highly advanced underground facility? I wonder if they’ve ever a dungeon core’s room. He then said out loud, "I’m not asking you to believe me, but I claim what’s rightfully mine!" He paused, but the Dullahan stared at him with ill intent, its jaw rattling silently, thinking, If I could stand right now, I would bring down punishment on your heretical words. I would make you pay for your blasphemy against the lord god Thanatos.
Karl then changed the topic, his patience wearing thin. "Anyway, We’re here to go to the 10th floor to find a mana node or something. Are you familiar with that?"
"Whatever you’re planning, I’m not helping you, outsider," the Dullahan said stubbornly.
"Whatever, you’re still gonna have to comply," Karl said, turning to Rook. "Finish him."
Rook nodded, his sword now held with a terrifying, deliberate calm. He thrust it with all his strength into the Dullahan’s chest, right where its core was. The blade pierced through the hard armor and cracked the Dullahan’s core beneath it. The knight’s bones dropped to the ground as his remaining dark mana dissipated, the air growing suddenly cold and still.
But a second later, a soft blue light began to emanate from the broken fragments of the Dullahan’s core. It reformed and healed, its pink hue turning to a vibrant, electric blue. His bones reattached themselves with an audible clicking sound as he floated back up and his head reattached to his torso, turning in place as it locked into position. The text above his head, [ Level 60 Dullahan ], turned from red to blue, just like Rook’s and Leo’s. The eye sockets, once glowing with a hateful red, now pulsed with a cool blue light, a sign of his new servitude. However, his level plummeted from 60 to 21, a direct consequence of the trial skill’s limitations.
Karl sighed. This is the downside of my new skill, huh?
He took a look at the description of the new skill, given as a trial reward from the system after being assigned a new task.[ Trial of the Tyrant’s Throne ]
Summon Throne Cost: 50 Mana
Animate Enemy Cost: 5 Mana per defeated enemy
Cooldown: 1 hour
Duration: 5 Minutes
Description: Summons a physical, indestructible throne at your location. The throne automatically animates all defeated enemies in a wide radius, turning them into permanent minions. These newly animated minions are automatically transferred to the Pocket Dimension: The Undead Barracks and can only be summoned after the cooldown has finished. These minions have 35% of their original strength, have a 5-minute duration before
they are forced into the Pocket Dimension, and cannot be leveled up. ]
He was also given a prerequisite skill, which was more useful, since there was no mana cost, no duration, and thanks to the trial skill, it had a forced 1-hour cooldown.
[ Pocket Dimension: The Undead Barracks ]
Cost: 0 Mana (passive ability)
Cooldown:
N/A (Forced 1 hour - Linked to Trial of the Tyrant’s Throne)Duration: N/A
Description: A sub-dimensional space connected to your "Autonomous Soul Framework." This unique area allows you to store and sustain your permanent undead minions, which can be summoned at will. They can be summoned or dismissed at any time and will heal over time while inside.
Karl then scrolled up and took a look at the new task once again.
[ New High Priority Task: ]
Clear Level: -10 and defeat the Gate Keeper.
Permanent Reward:Tyrant’s Throne of Undying Fury
Summon Throne Cost: 50 Mana
Animate Enemy Cost: 2 Mana per defeated enemy
Cooldown: N/A
Duration: N/A
Description: Summons a physical, indestructible throne with no cooldown. It automatically animates defeated enemies in a wide radius, turning them into permanent, durable minions. These new minions are then instantly transferred to your Pocket Dimension: The Undead Barracks, where they can be stored and summoned at will. The minions regain their full strength and are now able to be leveled up.
Karl sighed. I didn’t even know what level the Gate Keeper is, but it surely isn’t low. The system had rewarded him with a trial skill and a permanent unlock of the skill’s full capabilities, which was useful for him, since he basically had manpower problems—but also, the throne provided him with an indestructible ’shield’. He then turned to the Dullahan, who was now his summon.
He stared at it while the Dullahan bowed silently, a gesture of submission. "Now, guide me toward the vents that lead to the lower floors."
"Yes, my lord," the Dullahan said. He whistled, and his spectral horse appeared. He offered the horse to Karl, saying, "Please, my lord."
Karl shook his head. "No, you ride. I prefer my leg day. Just lead me to it." As they headed toward the ziggurat, which was still a battleground at the foot, the Corpse King continued to swat away the remaining forces. Schalezusk however was still enjoying himself, filled with the ecstasy of battle as he faced two knights on his own, swinging his double-handed axe despite his one arm.