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Chapter 52: Pursuit and Escape
Brandon had barely stepped out of the room when the towering red-armored skeleton began to stir again. With a groan, it laboriously twisted its torso, movements gradually shifting from sluggish to fluid.
Meanwhile, several Wind Spirit Spiders emerged from the rubble and returned to Brandon’s side. He counted four remaining, two of which signaled they had located potential targets. Though the spiders communicated in the ancient tongue of the wind kin—Tonalu, the language spoken by elemental beings of the fabled Storm’s Rest—he didn’t need to understand their words directly. Their intent was clear: the items were close, but not necessarily what he sought.
(Tonalu, or the Wind’s Rest, is the legendary dwelling place of the Elven King of Wind in Vonder. It is home to countless wind elementals whose speech derives from ancient runic systems. The Wind Tongue remains one of the few languages imbued with magic energy in this era, making it essential for Elementalists—particularly those specializing in storms.)
This revelation offered some relief, yet Brandon knew these creatures lacked the discernment to confirm whether the objects they’d found were indeed the Elemental Revelation Scroll. He would have to make that judgment himself.
Two targets lay ahead: one thirty meters south, another fifty meters west. The latter led toward the exhibition hall beneath the auction stage, making it the more likely candidate—but retracing his steps meant risking a direct confrontation. As he weighed his options, Brandon recalled two of the Wind Spirit Spiders to prevent further depletion of the card.
Behind him, twin flames of soulfire reignited within the undead’s hollow eye sockets.
Time was slipping away, and Brandon’s condition was far from ideal. His Lustrous Stinger was lost amidst the debris, leaving him unarmed. Chael was gone, his right arm nearly useless—still numb and throbbing with pain. The Wind Spirit Spiders could do little against such a foe, and The Ring of the Wind Sovereign remained on cooldown.
Mana exhaustion gnawed at his strength, though thankfully, his stamina reserves were still high, and his health remained intact.
He staggered into the corridor, his mind racing like lightning. Cursed crossbow bolts were ineffective against undead, and breaking through a second-floor window onto the crowded streets below wouldn’t deter the Crusader Executioner. Undead senses were attuned to life ripples; hiding among humans would be futile. In open terrain, escape was even less feasible.
Cursing under his breath, Brandon acknowledged that while the Executioner wasn’t invincible, the sheer disparity in power left him powerless.
He could almost hear the sound of the undead stirring behind him once more. Brandon shook his head, trying to dispel the thought, and sprinted forward along the debris-strewn corridor. In just a short while, the small auction house had been transformed as if ravaged by a storm. The earlier chaos had irrevocably altered the layout of the place. But Brandon had no time to dwell on that now—once the undead caught up, he doubted he’d make it ten meters before being cut down.
“I need to think of something.”
Suddenly, his eyes landed on the remains of a skeletal soldier nearby—a remnant of his handiwork from moments ago. An idea flickered in his mind.
The sound of grinding bones echoed behind him as the Executioner stepped out of the room, its massive axe slung over its shoulder. Its hulking form loomed menacingly, ribs jutting outward like jagged swords encircling a core of burning flame. Armor clad only its shoulders, helmet, and waist—the rest protected by skeletal plates hardened beyond ordinary metal through chaotic forces.
It paused, scanning the empty corridor. Moments ago, the faint ripple of life had guided it here, but now that signal waned almost imperceptibly.
Brandon lay flat beside the shattered remains of a skeleton soldier—one of his earlier kills. Holding his breath, he slowed his heartbeat and circulation, suppressing any trace of vitality. To undead eyes, he became nearly invisible.
The Executioner hesitated, its instincts wary of traps. Yet, it hadn’t completely lost sight of him.
Carefully, Brandon pried a black steel longsword from the skeletal claw beside him, moving slowly and deliberately. Despite his efforts to remain calm, each heartbeat thundered in his ears like a drumbeat against fragile nerves. The colossal skeleton drew closer—less than ten meters away. At this range, a single burst of speed from the Executioner could sever his head.
Twice, Brandon instinctively checked that his neck was still intact.
The undead took another step forward.
Unable to maintain composure any longer, Brandon acted. Years of gaming had honed his poise, but real-life stakes tested his resolve. He glanced at the towering figure—a General Guard of Madara, renowned for swift brutality and relentless slaughter on battlefields. Their axes stretched nearly four meters, delivering blows exceeding twenty tons of force. Each encounter cost humanity dearly—tenfold or more.
Records from Karasu’s wars detailed necromancers deploying dozens of General Guards to scatter entire infantry regiments of Eruin. Tales of these mobile towers of death abounded, striking terror into soldiers’ hearts.
Elite human units existed who could match them one-on-one—but Brandon wasn’t among them.
When the Executioner’s gaze fell upon him, his heart raced uncontrollably, betraying his presence. Blood surged through his veins, rekindling his life signature. The towering undead paused briefly before icy certainty descended upon Brandon.
It saw through his ruse.
But mere seconds had passed.
Sweat trickled down Brandon’s forehead. Any movement risked attack, yet staying still offered no salvation. Desperation seized him as he stared at his status interface. Seconds weren’t enough—he needed more time.
In a decisive moment, he rolled sideways.
The giant skeleton reacted instantly, raising its axe. Cold light reflected off the blade as it swung toward Brandon, draining color from his face. The monster surged forward like a gray phantom, covering over ten meters in an instant. Its axe carved a deep fissure into the wall, tearing through brick and mortar as if plowing earth.
Reinforced walls crumbled like tofu beneath the Executioner’s overwhelming strength. A gust of wind pressure followed the strike, barreling toward Brandon. Anticipating the move, he feinted left, pushing off hard with his foot to leap in the opposite direction.
The axe struck empty ground, shattering stone tiles and sending shards flying. Brandon dove between the Executioner’s legs, narrowly avoiding its wrath. A soul-shaking roar erupted from the hollow neck bones as the creature yanked its weapon back for another strike.
Dodging left and right, Brandon scrambled up, grabbing hold of the Executioner’s femur to maneuver around it. Each attempt to redirect the axe met resistance as the ceiling snagged the lengthy handle. Within moments, Brandon evaded three consecutive attacks. Realizing his tactics, the Executioner lunged to seize him.
Fifteen seconds.
Brandon had endured longer than expected.
As the Executioner’s massive hand descended, Brandon ducked low, activating his Charge skill the instant it came off cooldown. Speed surged, granting him agility nearly double that of the monstrous foe. Like a streak of continuous motion, he bolted forward, driving the black steel longsword into the wall with a Strength Surge.
The blade screamed in protest, snapping piece by piece. The wall buckled inward, bricks splintering chaotically. Discarding the broken sword, Brandon delivered a final punch, collapsing the barrier entirely. Leaping through the breach, he entered the adjacent room—exactly where the Wind Spirit Spiders awaited him via the sewer system.
Closer to his goal.
But the Executioner closed in faster. Without hesitation, Brandon hurled himself through the doorway, bursting into the next chamber like a meteor. Barely clearing the threshold, the colossal skeleton roared, smashing through the wall behind him. Dust cascaded down its helmet as it shoved aside fractured masonry, forcing its way inside.
The chase resumed in earnest, transforming the auction house into a disaster zone. The Executioner moved like a humanoid bulldozer, obliterating wood-and-stone walls with ease. Fifty units of strength rendered structural integrity meaningless; wherever it advanced, walls crumbled to powder.
In moments, it breached three successive barriers. From outside, part of the circular building collapsed in a deafening roar.
Brandon’s mind raced, calculating distances. Two rooms remained. Reaching for a dagger on his belt, he hurled it backward. The Executioner ignored it entirely, charging straight through the obstruction. The blade left only a faint white scratch on its bones before being swatted aside by a casual fist, reducing a Wind Spirit Spider to a smear of green essence.
One room crossed.
The Executioner raised its axe again, chilling Brandon to the bone. It seemed like he wouldn’t be able to make it.
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