Single for Eternity -
Chapter 99: DISSONANCE
Chapter 99: DISSONANCE
The skeletal army of awakened strength fell before me—one after another, their brittle bones shattering beneath the fury of my fists and the force of my kicks.
My movements had become instinctual by now—fluid, rhythmic, and almost mechanical. I didn’t need to think; I just moved, dancing in death’s theater.
From the edges of the battlefield, my Chaos Skeletons loosed their arrows with grim efficiency.
Each crimson arrow struck true, piercing through the skulls and ribcages of the enemy. The once-silent battlefield was now a constant chorus of cracking bones and sizzling aether.
The system’s notifications flooded my mind without pause—relentless, rhythmic, maddening.
[ +30 EXP ]
[ +20 Points ]
[ +30 EXP ]
[ +20 Points ]
[ +30 EXP ]
[ +20 Points ]
[ +30 EXP ]
[ +20 Points ]
[ + ........ ]
On and on it went, each kill another drop in the ever-filling bucket. But the deeper I waded into the horde, the more I realized—no matter how many of these undead monstrosities I brought down, their numbers refused to dwindle. It was like trying to drain an ocean with a spoon.
Simpy, ever dutiful, occasionally deployed Whispers of the Deep.
A sliver of itself latched onto an enemy skeleton, attempting to force its chaotic whispers into their decayed minds. More often than not, it failed—some shattered outright from the mental pressure, others simply collapsed, unable to withstand the alien truths being whispered into their fractured souls.
But once in a while, it worked.
[ +1 Vassal ]
[ Chaos Skeleton ]
Another enemy turned ally. Another weapon in our hands. But twenty. That was the limit. Simpy had reached its current cap.
[ Whisper of the Deep: 20/20 ]
Even so, it continued to try. Every failed attempt left behind a corpse, another scattered pile of bones on the already bloodstained battlefield.
Three hours passed. Or maybe more—I couldn’t tell. Time had blurred. My muscles ached, despite my body’s healing qualities.
Even my loyal symbiote, always eager for combat, now pulsed with a dull, sluggish rhythm.
It was tired. Hungry again. But unlike before, the undead provided diminishing returns. They weren’t true prey—they were sustenance, not a feast.
I could feel Simpy’s weariness mirroring mine. It didn’t complain—not verbally—but I could feel its fatigue, its exasperation.
Even as it fought alongside me, it knew we were slowly being buried in the futility of this eternal skirmish.
We had the upper hand now, sure—but that was only because we were deep within the horde’s ranks, caught in the swarm itself.
Their advantage in numbers was completely neutralized in close quarters, where they could barely maneuver or fire their arrows without hitting each other.
But if we pulled back even slightly... if we gave them space...
The barrage of spectral arrows would rain down like divine punishment. Simpy had already absorbed the brunt of two volleys in the beginning, and though it survived, it had come close to exhaustion then. A repeat barrage now, in our current state? We wouldn’t survive it.
So we remained here. Trapped. Within the very enemy we were dismantling.
And Simpy knew it. That was why, despite its growing exhaustion and irritation, it kept on fighting. There was no escape. Not yet. Not unless I made one.
I slammed my fist into another skull, shattering it instantly, and used the momentum to spring upward—vaulting onto the head of one of my own vassals.
I stood there, surveying the battlefield from this slight elevation. A throne of bone in a sea of death.
My skeletal vassals continued their grim work below. Arrows loosed in rhythm, striking down the approaching tide.
With every kill, they absorbed fragments of undead aether, slowly strengthening themselves. But it wasn’t enough.
We were cornered.
Pinned to the ancient tomb’s outer wall. Our backs against stone, the path behind us blocked by collapsed ruins and broken corpses. There was nowhere left to go.
And still, the skeletons came.
Clacking bones and empty sockets. Marching without pause. Without rest.
Without end.
This wasn’t a battle anymore. It was a war of attrition.
And I was on the losing side.
Simpy pulsed weakly beneath my armor, a dull vibration that signaled both frustration and concern. It wasn’t built for this kind of prolonged conflict—nor was I. We needed a plan. A way out.
I clenched my fists, blood dripping from between my fingers, mixing with the dust and death beneath me.
"I need to do something," I muttered under my breath, my voice hoarse. "If I keep fighting like this... we’ll be overwhelmed. Sooner or later."
Retreat wasn’t an option. Hiding wasn’t either.
At the time, I genuinely believed the smartest way to end this chaos was to dive headfirst into the den of the beast and beat the ever-living hell out of the boss monster. Simple logic, right? Cut off the head, and the body falls.
Then reality smacked me like a slap from the gods themselves.
Right. The boss monster was a Demigod.
Charging at it with my current state would be the equivalent of throwing a paper spear at a mountain and expecting it to crumble. I’d be pulverized. Turned into paste. Liquefied without a second thought.
So, being the brilliant strategist I was, I shoved that suicidal idea deep into the darkest corners of my brain, told myself to shut up, and flung myself back into the fray.
The skeletal horde welcomed me with the same cold indifference as before—silent, relentless, unwavering.
Their empty sockets burned with spectral light, and their bows never rested. My limbs screamed with fatigue, my joints ached, and each movement felt like I was dragging boulders tied to my arms.
I wasn’t moving anymore—I was surviving.
Each step forward was forced. Each swing of my fists or flick of a leg was a gamble. Their attacks, which I once dodged effortlessly, now pierced through Simpy’s faltering defenses.
Spectral arrows slammed into my armor, slipping through cracks in my movement, tearing into flesh, rupturing nerves.
Simpy, once a blazing suit of living armor, now barely held on. The dark-crimson shell flickered and rippled, growing thinner with each blow.
Its once-proud purrs of battle-lust had faded into tired, almost apologetic vibrations. It didn’t speak, but I could feel its message clear as day.
"I’m sorry. I’m... tired."
I gritted my teeth, eyes bloodshot from effort. Pain lanced through me, as jarring and disorienting as being struck by lightning over and over again. My breathing was shallow. My vision—blurry. The taste of iron filled my mouth.
And then it happened.
A cluster of spectral arrows—maybe ten, maybe twenty—slammed into me all at once. Like divine punishment cast from above.
I barely had time to register the impact before everything in my body screamed in unison.
CRACK.
The sound of breaking bones echoed inside my skull, deafening, like the shatter of glass in an empty cathedral. My ribs cracked. My shoulder twisted unnaturally. My right leg buckled mid-air.
And I dropped.
I plummeted like a stone, crashing into the ground below with the weight of a broken soul. Dust and bone fragments flew into the air as I hit the ruined earth, cratering the stone beneath me.
Agony surged through my nerves, sharp and searing. Breathing hurt. Existing hurt.
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t twitch. Even lifting a finger felt like lifting a mountain.
My eyes—barely able to stay open—stared up at the pale, ash-choked sky. Around me, the horde advanced.
I heard the clatter of bony feet. Dozens of them. Marching toward me. With no urgency. No rush.
Predators knowing the prey had already fallen.
My Chaos Skeletons fired volley after volley, trying to shield me, to hold the line. Loyal to the last. But even they were faltering.
Arrows clanged uselessly against the tide of bones. They were outnumbered. Outclassed.
Outmatched.
I laughed. Or at least, tried to. A dry, wheezing cough escaped my lips, flecked with blood.
"Is this it?" I whispered. "This... pitiful?"
There was no fear in me. Only frustration. And a strange, almost calming resignation. I wasn’t afraid to die.
Not anymore. I’d come this far with nothing but spite and luck holding me together.
So, I closed my eyes. Not to give up.
But to let go.
Just for a moment.
And then—I heard it.
No, felt it.
A voice that wasn’t a voice. A sound that wasn’t a sound.
It resonated—like a melody strung through the air itself. A thousand notes, all discordant yet somehow beautiful. A song laced with tension, sorrow, and wrath.
DISSONANCE.
The word echoed through the battlefield, like a bell tolling through the void. It didn’t come from above, below, or even around me. It came from everywhere.
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