He slashed through skeleton after another, swiftly moving along their swings and avoiding exposing his back. Michael jumped back into the outside and dealt with them. These skeletons still swung hard, but the way they positioned their swords made it easy for Michael to predict their pattern of attack. They kept coming after him, trying to overwhelm him with numbers but he defeated them all with one slash. He even felt like this was too easy. She was actually right, they were slower than him. None of them could compete against his speed.
With Evelyn constantly warning of the ones forming at his rear, he couldn't be defeated by some cheap trick. Was this how winning felt like? The exhilaration of beating an enemy in battle on your own?
Michael bursted through the door again, but this time, with more resolve and bravery. He had slashed through the skeleton army like a hero of tales.
The lich turned. Its eyes burned in frustration looking over and the cut pieces of bones riddled behind Michael. It looked like the beasts couldn't find out the reason why its minions weren't reforming. That only fueled its aggression.
Who would ever know, the voice said, that monsters can get angry.
The lich slammed the staff into the ground and spun it with its hands. The green mist that Michael initially saw, it didn't slither through the floor anymore. It was coming through the outside, straight into the source.
Michael ducked out of the way. Bones from everywhere, flowing through the window, sweeping off the ground, they were all conjoined into one mass of a tall skeleton. His arms and legs were made of chipped bones. The lich didn't even bother creating a mass for the head, four limbs was enough to do the job.
The amalgamation of bones slammed into the ground, trembling Michael of his footing. Even if that impact seemed to shatter its legs, it quickly recovered by gathering the bones right back. It was thick with random pieces of bone almost towering over Michael. The lich hissed, commanding his strongest troop to rip the small human apart.
The bone giant charged for Michael.
Michael's sword glowed in response. He gripped it hard again.
The bone giant slammed its arm in front of him. Michael thought he was too far off with that type of distance. But his arm exploded from the impact, shooting a burst of bone shrapnel everywhere.
He instinctively raised his arms. He admitted the bones scraping across his skin burned even if he was trying to look tough for Evelyn. There was no way he would dodge an attack like that. He watched the bones slowly draw back into the giant, flowing through his leg to regenerate another arm.
You need to cut off its limbs, the voice said, I can break the lich's magic.
Michael wondered how he would ever do that. If he had got close, a hit from that giant could not only bruise but puncture his body just from the sharp bones conjoined in his arms.
The bone giant raised both of its arms.
Get down, the voice rang loudly in his head.
Michael dove for the ground, shielding his face just as another explosion filled the room. His arms felt like they were burning. He knew they were bleeding but he couldn't pay enough mind to look at them.
Now, the voice rang again, attack now!
He sprung from the ground and ran for the giant. It was still recovering, trying to gather the bones back in its arms. Michael shouted and swung his sword across, dragging the blade through one of its legs.
The bone giant fell over, crashing into the ground into a pool of its own severed bones.
Michael raised his sword again, aiming to end the monster for good before it could regenerate again. Then he heard a voice ringing in his head, a voice screaming his name.
The lich chanted with its foul voice, drawing the heat into its staff and powering a live fireball. These were wild mana beasts. They would fight for their survival by any means necessary. Morals never even existed for them at all. It would rather destroy its own construct if it meant taking out the human with it. Michael was threatening their home and these beasts had every right to kill him.
Everything just happened so quickly. He turned his blade over just before the fireball exploded directly on him. He even felt his own feet being lifted off the ground. Right before he thought he would have the upper hand, he had completely forgotten the lich was also a mage and played by no rules.
At first, he thought he was dead. His body hoarsely coughed himself awake. Was he still alive? If he was, he needed to move. He groaned and forced himself to flip over. His arms were scorched, his clothes burned away, and he could feel his mouth filled with ash. Michael looked down at his trembling hands.
She was gone. He couldn't see where she was. Michael felt the bones dragging along his body. The giant was reforming, the lich was preparing another spell. His vision was blurring, running away the last ounce of energy he had left.
He could see the lich aiming its staff at his body. This was the end. There was no way he could survive another attack like that. Ever since he had bonded with Evelyn, he's only been running off of pure luck. He remembered her smile. He remembered how soft her hand was. He could have been on the edge of death but he first wanted to hear her voice.
Then there was a sharp whistle. The lich staggered back, disrupting his spell against Michael. The bone giant was being smashed over and over, as it kept trying to form again. There were voices shouting at each other, heavy footsteps running around him, and he can see the lich trying to avoid the arrows shot at him.
Michael felt his body flip over. He made out the night sky through the small holes in the roof. There was a blurring face. His eyes felt heavy, his body encouraged himself to sleep, and he couldn't hear anything. He closed his eyes and felt himself sinking in his own body.
***
It took him a few minutes to realize he was awake. He laid there in silence, bouncing around his own thoughts. He couldn't have been dead. He imagined being dead wouldn't feel this comfortable. He was laying on some type of bed with what looked like a blanket covering over him. Michael could hear the murmuring voices to the side. He was still alive.
Michael must have been staring at the ceiling this whole time. Was he in somebody's house? His body was dozing off but he felt some sort of obligation to stay awake. He started to grip his hand. Was there supposed to be something there?
The curtain moved next to his bed. "You up, kid?"
Michael recognized that voice. It was the same adventurer from before, he had tried to stop him and Evelyn from taking the quest.
"You had one hell of a fight," he sat across from him. "It's actually a miracle that you survived."
Michael groaned in response. He meant to say hello.
"I'm Stefan," he shook Michael's limp hand. "You don't have to thank me, it's fine, they paid me enough."
Stefan smiled as if Michael wasn't wrapped head to toe with bandages. Stefan had long auburn hair, brushed back with an undercut that complimented his chiseled face. But despite his rugged handsomeness, his hazel eyes looked just as immaturely eager.
Michael weakly moved his hand into his eyes. They were padded more with bandages than the rest of his body. But looking at his empty hand, he really felt like something was missing.
"I told you, didn't I?" Stefan patted his leg. "That you two would be digging your own graves."
The words you two echoed in his mind. That was right, Michael wasn't alone. He was never alone from the beginning. He felt like his brain was going to explode. The memories with her, jogging back and forth, replaying through his mind again like a burning film.
"Woah, woah—" Stefan tried to stop him. "Not so fast kid, where are you going?"
"The sword—" Michael coughed. "I had a sword with me. Where is she?"