I can't believe it, the boys split up, like naive paranormal investigators. I had followed the boys back to the room they retreated to, invisible to them now that I wasn't manifested. It was so good to be able to wander around freely again without that pesky scholar spotting me. They talked some nonsense about a soul reaper, and then four of them returned to the central chamber, leaving two very easy-to-scare boys behind.
I really shouldn't act outside my active window, but this is too tempting a target. They're just kids anyway, are they really going to notice I'm not obeying dumb ghost rules?
I move a distance from the room and then wait until the other 4 boys are out of earshot before turning my hands into long claws and dragging them on the stone floor. The sound effect is perfect. When I get back to the room, I do the classical slow turn into the room. One of the boys bolts and jumps out the window. Oof, that's going to hurt. I didn't overdo it, did I? I only want to scare the kids until they pass out or run.
I approach the other kid. I'd better make this fast so I can check on the one that jumped out the window, but I barely raise a hand before the kid's eyes roll back and he falls unconscious. Wow, these kids are weak. Weaker than the previous groups of boys for sure.
I glide down to the kid who jumped. Yeah, he's got a nasty bump on his head, but it doesn't seem to be fatal. His arm is definitely broken, though. It's not bending the right way. I'd better set it correctly before moving him to the entrance along with the other two.
I admire my handiwork at the entrance to the complex. Three thoroughly scared boys, four to go. It's almost time to begin my next shift, better get to it. I pass two of the boys on my way to the 3rd floor hallway. Did they split up again? Whelp, I can't argue when they're making my job easier now, can I?
I hurry to my starting position and begin the slow walk down the hall that my performance demands. I rush it a little bit, though, when I hear the boys approaching, I want to use the corner for the slow-turn fear effect again.
I hear the boys declare that they will fight. Well, not as fun as scaring them, but I could use the exercise. The fire mage is a bit boring. The fireballs sting a little, but they can't really hurt me before the boy runs out of mana. I already know this from the previous encounters with mages, so my dodging is a little sloppy, and some still clip me anyway.
The other boy seems to have locked up after seeing me, well, so much for exercise. I'd better end this before I come back to life from sheer boredom. The fire mage calls out to the other boy to assist him. It's going to be futile, kid; he's locked up in fear. I've seen that look before.
But I'm the one who is surprised. I only dodge the first strike out of sheer instinct. It's a good thing I was a gymnast in life. I have some amount of quick reactions. My senses and instincts haven't really been honed for combat, though.
The boy continues to press his attack on me, and I only dodge by the thinnest of margins each time. When I accidentally go to block instead, I'm surprised when the blade rebounds. Oh, I guess that's why it felt dangerous to me, it can touch me.
My fight with the boy continues to be a series of close calls, but I feel like I need this; I can use the boy to hone my abilities. I'm astonished at how fast my abilities start to eclipse his as I practice on him. But I suppose that's what happens when we were already almost fairly matched to begin with. I had a lot of room to learn my combat sense while relying on my acrobatics to get me through. The boy has already developed his combat sense, and his acrobatic abilities were nowhere near mine.
The fire mage has finally tapped out. I quickly disengage to knock him out before returning to the combat with the assassin. He seems to be trying to push himself to the next level, but he can't quite grasp it at the end. When he stands exhausted in front of me, I knock him out, too. Oddly, he seems to have accepted it. Why wasn't he afraid? Hopefully, this doesn't come back to bite me.
I drop the two kids off at the entrance with the others before resuming my journey to the amphitheater. That threw off the schedule I'm supposed to keep, but the combat already did that, ghosts are known to resume their original routine after they're interrupted, and it's not like the boys would've timed their fight to find out exactly how long I was delayed by.
* * *
William is starting to get worried as he tears apart the stage, trying to find anything that might be a tether. It has been way too long since the ghost last manifested, and Jeffries and Lorenzo haven't returned either. By this time, they've likely encountered the ghost. Knowing those two, they either fought it or are still fighting it.
A blue glue begins to emerge from one of the hallways. A pit forms in William's stomach. The ghost showing up here means Jeffries and Lorenzo are likely dead. Why did he have to be so prideful as to bring his group here? Why did it have to be his group that suffered casualties? The other groups came home with only scratches and bruised pride. It wasn't fair.
Out of sheer desperation, William punches the altar, and his hand breaks through. What? He was strong, but not that strong. He fumbles about in the hidden compartment, and his hand lands on something loose that he can pull out.
The ghost is approaching the altar, so William quickly retreats to the edge of the amphitheater, where Timothy is already waiting. At this distance, they should be out of the ghost's aggression range.
"So, Jeffries and Lorenzo?" Timothy asks.
"Probably dead," William confirms
"Fuck," Timothy exclaims.
"Fuck," William agrees.
The ghost appears to have been dragged down the amphitheater steps and then brutally sacrificed on the altar. The ghost may have been tormenting them all night, but he can't help but feel some pain for it. The Siegrids were bastards. It's good they were purged from the kingdom long ago.
William takes a look at the trinket he managed to retrieve from the altar. It's black like obsidian and shaped into the form of a person with a jackal head holding an ankh. It's not a figure he's familiar with, but it has an ominous feeling like the reaper. It didn't feel like the ghost's tether; it felt more like it was a tether for the reaper itself. Was that possible?
The ghost is apparently dragged onto the altar. It's time to interfere. Whether they've got the tether or not, they can't let the reaper manifest again. William grabs Timothy's wrist and drags him into the range of the ghost's aggression. The ghost turns and steps off the altar in their direction. Great, the first part of the hitherto unfinished plan worked, now they just have to fight a ghost and win, no pressure.
Oh, but that would be too easy; fate had other ideas for William. Channels in the altar start glowing with pale blue light and spread to fill the stage. The death acolytes reappear, more tangible this time. The fragment of the death god, known as the soul reaper, also reappears, still ethereal, but William knows it won't be for much longer. William feels his very soul locked down by the being towering over the stage. He feels Timothy drop to the ground next to him.
It feels as if the reaper leans in close, commanding him to kneel. Every muscle in William's body burns as he resists the command. The death god taunts him inside his mind. William is weak, unable to save his comrades, unable to save himself; even now, William can't move a muscle. The acolytes on the stage move to surround the boys. This is the end of the flaming spear. Their light was snuffed out before they could rise. Crushed in the darkness where no one will know of their struggles. No one will know what they sacrificed or why.
William falls to one knee.
The town will be next. Swallowed by the darkness in this ruin. The city streets, now jovial, will become silent and still like this ruin. No, not a ruin. A tomb. The tomb. The residence of death. Today, the domain of death will expand. Fields will become barren. Once thriving homes will become empty and still. The forests, once teeming with life and noise, will become eerie and hollow. Death will claim every corner of this region.
Williams falls to both knees.
"No."
"They will not."
William raises his head to glare at the reaper.
"Today, death will not have his due."
With every last bit of resistance he can muster, he lifts the trinket in his hand and summons a fireball in the same hand. The effect is immediate. The death god lets out an inhuman screech and writhes, slamming his scythe into the altar, before disappearing along with its acolytes.
William gasps in the first lungful of air since the reaper appeared. He almost can't believe that worked. Wait, if that was the death god's tether, then the ghost is? William focuses on the altar again, but first, he finds the ghost girl standing right in front of him.
Yes, girl. With the banishment of the death god, the girl seems to have been released from whatever foul curse had mutilated her form. She's beautiful, even in death. It doesn't seem so bad to die by her hand. She can't stop herself; it's in a ghost's nature. Besides, he can't move a single muscle; he's too exhausted.
The ghost girl seems to notice his gaze and looks down, before covering herself. "Pervert!" she screams. Wait, did she just talk? William has no more time for thought before he's slapped into oblivion.