༺ The Slanted Ceiling and the Mountain of Laughing Corpses – 3 ༻
“…I did suspect the possibility, but to think she was affiliated with Sanctum.”
A hostility sparked in Tyr’s eyes as she regarded the regressor. It was an instinctive reaction, deeply rooted within her very essence, a surge of aversion. Had Tyr’s heart remained frozen, she might have joined the Earth Sage against the regressor. However…
“…But he always seemed too guileless for such an association. I wonder why.”
They had spent a long time together, witnessing each other’s depths. Through it all, the regressor never projected animosity or scorn. She had merely chuckled wryly at the clumsy bond we shared.
Three months was a blink of an eye for Tyr, but with her newfound beating heart, it was time enough to be a profound experience.
Thus, Tyr chose to remain uninvolved.
See, Regressor? I get what you were worried about, but I told you we wouldn’t butt in.
Suddenly, the undying landed in the blood ocean with Callis. Feeling the furious winds, he mused aloud.
“Hmm! Given his powers of the sky, like wind and cloud, I had presumed he was related to the Sky God!”
“Sanctum’s powers do not come from the Sky God. He bestows no ability upon man.”
Tyr spoke with conviction, having faced Sanctum’s forces more than anyone else in her life. Her crimson eyes chased the regressor’s invisible sword as she continued quietly.
“They may claim to worship the Sky God, but their true devotion lies with the First Saintess. And every subsequent saintess has been revered as a prophet or an oracle.”
“Ah? Come to think of it, that is indeed the case! Then is it not actually amazing? It implies they achieved such prominence without divine intervention!”
“The real mystery is their ability to peer through the fabric of space and time. Hmph, those cowards…”
Tyr’s grudge was evidently undiminished, even with her reawakened heart.
“Regardless, Shei cannot be an oracle. Since the First Saintess’s crucifixion, only women have been qualified to take that role. Unless he is hiding… hiding his actual gender…?”
Tyr tilted her head in contemplation, but her thought train was halted by an unexpected noise.
“Grrrr!”
Azzy, still clinging to the ceiling like a bat, began to growl menacingly. Given her natural distaste for human corpses, this entire landscape had to be like a minefield to her.
There was no issue with treading upon or damaging these already lifeless corpses, but there was no point in forcing her to come down.
“Yeah, you stay there. Don’t come down if you don’t want to…”
“Grrrrrr!”
But Azzy’s growling wasn’t just a reaction to the dead—there was movement among the corpses. Sensing this, one of the searchlights swiftly swiveled, casting its beam upon the disturbance. Thanks to that, I clearly saw a corpse, draped in loose clothing, pushing itself off its knees.
Not that I particularly appreciated the view.
Death was the end of life, a tranquil phase where worldly lines faded. Hence, a dead body that succumbed to nature shouldn’t be able to move by itself. It was supposed to decay and meld with the world.
Simply put, the corpse staggering to its feet was breaking the number one taboo in a grave: getting up again.
I grimaced at the sight.
“This has got to be a joke.”
Tyr, however, was unfazed.
“A vengeful spirit? I suppose it is not strange for there to be a couple, given there are 300,000 of them.”
This anomaly was why gravemen had existed and the faith in Mother Earth once thrived. Occasionally, remnants of souls would linger in the deceased, prompting movement or change. It might be best described as a primal body-mediated magic, triggered just before death.
Of course, mere residual souls were no threat to the living, so most were easily exorcised. Nevertheless, dealing with reanimated corpses was a deeply unpleasant and inconvenient affair, which was why people employed gravemen to ensure proper burials.
Buried underground, where even the living couldn’t escape, these specters would only stir momentarily before vanishing.
“It is a trifle. Give me a moment.”
Naturally, for Progenitor Tyrkanzyaka, the world’s worst specter who had been buried alive only to reemerge with an almost corpse-like body, it was indeed a trifling matter.
“I will not need to even exert myself.”
Tyr motioned with her hand, summoning forth a shadowy figure. Seconds later, a sharp blade impaled the spirit-possessed corpse.
It was the handiwork of a dark knight.
The knight withdrew his sword and delivered a kick behind the corpse’s leg, forcing it to kneel before beheading it. The severed head soared away, disappearing beyond the searchlights’ reach.
I applauded the dark knight’s actions.
“Wow, dark knight! That’s some Season 1-level performance! You can drop the shameful titles of Wage Thief and Scouter now!”
“…But of course. A dark knight would hardly be defeated by mere specters.”
Thinking about it, dark knights were a type of specter too. They were the souls of knights killed by Tyr, so it made sense they were stronger than regular soldiers…
But just as I had this thought, something grabbed the dark knight’s ankle. A hand. As he turned his black helmet downward to see what it was, the knight was tripped by the hand.
Suddenly, numerous hands appeared, their fingers crawling over the knight’s body like ants, clutching, tearing, and pinching. Completely restrained, the dark knight struggled to break free, only to end up being dismantled to nothingness.
Only hands remained in the spotlight.
In the stunned silence that followed, I coldly retracted my earlier praise.
“Scratch that. It’s a pretty lackluster performance for a knight to get destroyed after taking just one out. How about we call them dark pawns from now? Actually, ‘dark’ sounds too strong. Let’s go with dirt pawns.”
“Is now really the time for jesting? Stay close for now. Danger aside, something is amiss.”
Her words were punctuated by alarms sounding throughout Tantalus. Whiiing-. The artificial shrill pierced my ears as the searchlights ceased their tracking efforts, overwhelmed by the sheer number of moving figures.
Instead, they gradually broadened their narrow beams as lights sprang forth from the boundaries of Tantalus.
I had assumed the daytime light was our sole source of proper illumination, but I was mistaken. Small, concealed lights along Tantalus’ perimeter popped out in unison. Though each was dimmer than the daytime light, together, they bathed the area in a radiant glow.
The lights from the low ceiling vividly revealed the mountain of the dead: piles of clothes, flesh, limbs, and occasional heads. Viewing the amassed human remains in this fashion, forming eerie contours, evoked more than horror. It was like staring at a grotesque, purely disturbing work of art.
However, this unsettling sight was soon overshadowed by something even more terrifying.
The foot of the corpse mountain was awash with sieved blood. Around its edges, the dead garbed in loose clothing began to stand as one. It was a veritable army of specters.
Tyr appeared tense at the sight.
“…How bright. It will be hard to manipulate shadows. But instead…”
By her command, the squelching blood below began to rise.
Tyr’s bloodcraft couldn’t be exerted outside her body since her heart began to beat again, but she could still manipulate blood in such close proximity.
She conjured an orb of crimson blood before her, cautioning me.
“Stay close, Hu.”
Then, with a flick of her finger, she sent a fanning tidal wave of blood crashing into the undead, erasing any sign of their existence.
Yet, the tension didn’t leave Tyr’s face. Not because she feared the possessed corpses, but because she worried I might be harmed.
“I promise to keep you safe.”
Feeling bolstered, I raised a thumbs-up.
“The Dark Rose is certainly better than the dark knights! Or should I say dirt pawns!”
“You really must feel no tension at all!”
Off in the distance, Callis and the undying were locked in combat with the possessed corpses. The undying was unleashing a series of punches, sending the enemy airborne or destroying them with each blow.
But he was at a disadvantage. Even though the undying never tired, he only had two fists. He might occasionally manage to knock down three undead at once, but within seconds, dozens more would come swarming at him. It was inevitable for him to be pushed back more and more. And with someone to protect, he was ever bound to become defensive.
The undying shouted a warning.
“Callis! Stay with me! You must never separate!”
“No! I’m joining the fight!”
“Join? You are hurt! Do not worry, I do not tire! They cannot handle even a punch of mine!”
Callis snapped in retort.
“Idiot! It was all an act! It’s about time you figured it out!”
“Eh?”
His confusion allowed the undead to close the distance. Biting her lips, Callis inserted her combat arm packet into her bio-receptor.
“Call to Arms!”
With a mechanical whir, an alchemic glow enveloped her left arm, forming a steel gauntlet. Now armed, Callis punched an oncoming corpse, shattering its skull and sending its teeth flying. Swiftly, she snatched some of the teeth midair and slotted one into a chamber in her gauntlet.
She took aim, yelling.
“Set, Re, Re, Re, Pascal, Heaven!”
Instead of the expected release of steam, a burst of compressed air shot the tooth like an air gun. The projectile zipped through the air and struck an advancing undead, causing its head to jerk back slightly with a dull sound of impact.
But that was all. The corpse continued its march undeterred.
“Argh! The size isn’t right! And it’s too light…!”
“Well, because it is a tooth?”
“Their teeth are soft and lack alchemical resistance, probably because they’re so old! Alright then!”
｢Instant Alchemy!｣
As Callis clenched and unfurled her right fist, alchemically altered teeth materialized. Though they were all different in shape and size, their thickness alone was uniform.
Callis loaded a tooth with the perfect dimensions and took another shot. The sound was softer this time.
“Heaven Art!”
The tooth decisively pierced an undead’s right ankle, causing it to stumble and fall.
“I’ll assist you!”
“Uh, mm. Do not push yourself…?”
Though she had been overshadowed by the “monsters” among us, a trained officer was virtually a finely crafted war machine. The Military State would be troubled if she couldn’t perform at least this well.
But of course, no matter how much she tried…
“Skyblade Art, Thunderbird!”
“O Mother Earth!”
…She couldn’t measure up to that side of the neighborhood.
A bolt of lightning surged from Chun-aeng, targeting the Earth Sage. Yet the latter dodged simply by dropping low and jumping. She was slower than the lighting’s descent, but her unity with the earth rendered her invincible to lightning.
With a resonating thud, the Earth Sage stomped her foot, sending tremors through the horde of surrounding corpses. The force spread like ripples, only to focus beneath the regressor, culminating in an explosion. The blast catapulted corpses toward the regressor at the speed of a cannonball.
Was it a coincidence or intended? A spinning arm zeroed in on the regressor’s flank.
The regressor sprang up with ease, gracefully stepping on a flying corpse to leap once more.
｢Tsk. Has she already adapted to this field of corpses? I was hoping the lack of earth would give me an advantage…!｣
“Did you think this land of no soil or rocks would give you an edge?”
The Earth Sage saw through the regressor’s thoughts.
“Earth is the embodiment of Mother Earth. Regardless of any trivial elements, everything stems from the earth. I make no distinction between terrains!”
“Well, aren’t you great…!”
The grumbling regressor landed on the inverted ceiling. Her refined Qi Arts enabled her to walk on the skewed surface as if it were level ground.
While the Earth Sage had similar capabilities, she lacked the same agility as her opponent. Most importantly, she could only weave the earth standing on the ground… or so the regressor had thought.
This presumption was soon debunked.
“There is no sky here. The vast earth becoming the ceiling does not favor you either!”
Crying out with conviction, the Earth Sage grasped at the air, the veins of her fingertips bulging.
Onlookers might think she was miming, straining in vain. But this was nothing like that. Miming was a simulation of false reality.
“Rage!”
The Earth Sage, however, manifested genuine power. She swiped her hand, causing the concrete ceiling to fragment into grid-like sections. These solid blocks lunged toward the regressor.
The very earth obeyed the Earth Sage, even without her direct contact.
｢She can do this much even without Jizan!｣
Was it rising inversely or plummeting? Either way, the blocks of concrete narrowly missed their mark. But even though the regressor managed to hastily dodge a direct hit, the force of the near miss still rang through her body.
“Tsk…!”
No ground was safe. The regressor gasped for breath as she landed far away.
In contrast, the Earth Sage moved with the same poise from the start.
“How disappointing, Champion. Is it a lack of ability or hostility? Why stand in my way if you possess neither? Out of duty? Or is it the sole path to your desired future?”
The Earth Sage’s piercing gaze settled on the regressor.
“If you will not fight, I hope you will step aside. I wish not to battle an opponent without enmity.”
The regressor shot a remark.
“…The people you’ll encounter will bear no enmity either.”
“I am sure such individuals will sidestep on their own. I solely aim to confront the sinful. Every hidden vice must be unveiled and repented.”
“They still won’t move aside. They have their duty to guard their sanctuary. Just like you.”
A clash of duty against duty was no more than a pure tragedy devoid of good or evil. The regressor, despite her lack of eloquence, was trying to convey this sentiment.
The Earth Sage’s brow furrowed, but her moment of contemplation was brief. A conclusion had already crystallized inside her.
“…Then, I will simply move them aside.”
“That’s why I’m trying to stop you. Because you… yeah. You won’t fall. Even if it means bringing everyone else down.”
This was the regressor’s mission to safeguard the future. She lifted her sword again. The steadiness of the blade reflected her steadfast determination.
Gazing flatly at her opponent, the Earth Sage settled her emotions before speaking calmly.
“I will climb there and take the Grand Master’s relic. This is a matter of course, like the way a stone rolls. If you choose to oppose, brace yourself.”
This was a direct challenge to the regressor, a compassionate yet resolute demand for clarity in the latter’s stance.
“You cannot stop me without breaking me.”
Thus, the One Who Does Not Fall began to climb the mountain of the dead, heading straight for the peak.
