The silence following the collapse was not the silence of peace. It was the heavy, suffocating stillness that precedes a localized extinction event.
Han-wool stood atop the jagged remains of the Abyssal Throne, his hand still clutching the fragment of the High Priest's staff. The ceiling was gone, replaced by a jagged opening that revealed the dark, swirling storm clouds of the mountain peak. Beside him, Hajin was trembling, his small Golden aura flickering like a dying candle amidst the settling dust and debris. Woojin and Jin-joo were catching their breath, their eyes fixed on the massive pile of rubble where the ritual circle had once been.
"It's over," Woojin wheezed, wiping soot from his goggles as he looked up at the open sky. "The system said twelve years. We bought the time."
"No," Han-wool whispered. His skin crawled. The Eye of the Thief wasn't seeing the gray haze of settling dust. It was seeing a rhythmic, pulsing violet light beneath the mountain of stones.
> [System Alert]
> Critical Error: Emotional Resonance Detected.
> Target: 'Amartya' has reacted to the 'Despair' and 'Hatred' of the slaughtered Cultists.
>
"Get back!" Han-wool roared, grabbing Hajin by the collar and throwing him toward Jin-joo. "Now! Get to the exit tunnel!"
The mountain didn't just shake; it screamed.
A pillar of Abyssal Miasma, so dark it looked like a tear in reality, erupted from the center of the debris. The stones that had buried the ritual chamber didn't just fly away—they disintegrated into ash as the corrosive energy ate through the very molecules of the rock.
From the crater rose a figure that defied the biology of the previous timeline. In Han-wool's memory, Amartya was a towering, skeletal titan. But this... this was different.
The creature was human-sized, draped in a cloak of liquid shadows. Its skin was translucent, stretched over a frame of obsidian bones. Its eyes weren't glowing orbs; they were voids that sucked in the surrounding light.
> [Evolution Complete]
> Target: Amartya (The Immortal Darkness)
> Rank: B (High-Tier)
> Status: Intelligent / Awakened
>
The Lich didn't roar. It tilted its head, looking at the corpses of the High Priest and the buried Do-hyun. Then, its gaze landed on Han-wool.
"You... thief," the Lich spoke. The voice wasn't vocal; it was a telepathic vibration that felt like glass shards scraping against Han-wool's brain. "You stole... my feast. You broke... the cradle."
"He's talking?!" Woojin cried out, his hands shaking as he leveled the Star Piercer. "A B-Rank shouldn't be this sentient!"
"The collapse," Han-wool realized, his teeth gritting. "The mass death of the Cultists provided a concentrated burst of 'Negative Karma' that should have taken a decade to accumulate. My plan... it fed him."
Amartya raised a slender, skeletal hand. The Abyssal Miasma swirling amongst the jagged ruins and falling dust didn't just move; it obeyed. It ignored the laws of the open air, coiling around the shattered pillars like a living shroud.
"Return... what is mine."
The Lich flickered.
"Woojin, fire! Jin-joo, guard Hajin!"
BANG!
The azure streak of the Star Piercer tore through the air, but Amartya didn't dodge. He simply reached out and caught the mana bullet. The projectile hissed and dissolved into a cloud of purple smoke in his palm.
"Too... slow," Amartya whispered.
In a blur of abyssal speed, the Lich appeared in front of Woojin.
"Shadow Step: Step 1! Step 2! Step 3! Step 4!"
Han-wool didn't hesitate. He burned his entire mana pool to, blinking between Woojin and the Lich. He crossed his daggers, blocking a strike from Amartya's shadow-claws.
CLANG.
The impact felt like being hit by a freight train. Han-wool's boots dug trenches into the stone floor of the ruined cavern as he was pushed back.
"Jin-joo! Give me an opening!"
"Out of the way!" Jin-joo screamed. She lunged forward, her 'Internalized Mana' flaring so brightly her skin turned a dull bronze. She threw a punch aimed at the Lich's sternum—a blow that could have shattered a tank.
Amartya didn't move. He let the punch land.
BOOM.
The shockwave cracked the floor, but the Lich remained unmoved. He looked at Jin-joo's fist, then back at her.
"Brute... force. Meaningless... against the void."
The Lich's shadow surged upward, wrapping around Jin-joo's throat and slamming her into the remaining jagged wall of the cavern.
"Gah—!"
"Jin-joo!" Woojin tried to fire again, but the Lich gestured, and the Abyssal Miasma under Woojin's feet spiked, impaling his shoulder and tossing him aside.
Han-wool was alone.
He looked at the Lich. He was thirteen years old, outclassed in strength, outclassed in mana, and facing a B-Rank King that shouldn't exist for another decade.
"You... are the variable," Amartya said, gliding closer. "I can smell... the future on you. You have... tasted my flesh before."
Han-wool stood tall, his eyes glowing a blood-red that rivaled the Lich's darkness. He didn't run. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the corrupted core he had stolen from the mutated Hobgoblin earlier.
"I didn't just taste it, you bastard," Han-wool growled. "I digested it."
Han-wool crushed the core and swallowed the shards.
> [Warning: Critical Overload]
> Abyssal Miasma is ravaging your circuits.
> Unique Skill: «Steal» is evolving to counter the threat.
>
Han-wool's skin began to crack, purple light leaking from his veins. He began the sequence again, but this time, he didn't stop at Step 6.
"Step 1: Concealment!"
"Step 2: Merge!"
"Step 3: Decoy!"
"Step 4: Jump!"
"Step 5: Sense!"
"Step 6: Anchor!"
The shadows bound the Lich for a microsecond.
"Step 7: Shadow Forge!"
The darkness around Han-wool's daggers condensed, turning the jagged goblin steel into blades of pure, concentrated void. Han-wool lunged.
The Lich raised a shield of souls, but Han-wool didn't strike the shield. He used «Paralysis Glare» at point-blank range.
Amartya's void-eyes widened. For one-tenth of a second, the Immortal Darkness was still. Han-wool drove both forged blades into the Lich's chest.
"Steal... the source!" Han-wool screamed.
> [Skill Activated: Steal (Concept)]
> Target: Amartya (B-Rank)
> Condition Met: Mortal Contact + Paralysis + Temporal Resonance.
> Stealing... 'Abyssal Miasma Origin'.
>
A blinding flash of purple and red light filled the cavern. The Lich let out a telepathic shriek that shattered every remaining piece of stone in the area.
The recoil sent Han-wool flying back, his body hitting the wreckage of the Abyssal Throne with a sickening thud.
When the light faded, Amartya was clutching his chest. He wasn't dead, but his translucent skin was flickering. His rank remained at B-Rank, but his aura was stabilizing, no longer leaking the chaotic, uncontrollable vapor from before. He looked at Han-wool with a newfound, terrifying clarity. By stealing the Miasma, Han-wool had inadvertently allowed the Lich to compress and control his remaining power.
"You…Thief…" Amartya hissed, his form solidifying. "You have taken... my burden. I am... focused. We... will meet... in the deep."
The Lich dissolved into a swarm of black moths, vanishing into the cracks of the cavern floor.
> [Battle Terminated]
> You have successfully stolen the Abyssal Miasma.
> New Stat Unlocked: [Abyssal Miasma: 10]
> Condition: You can now manipulate the fog of death, but it will corrupt your body if not managed.
>
Han-wool crawled toward the center of the crater where Amartya had emerged. There, lying in the dust, was a pulsing, obsidian-colored crystal. It was the Lich's primary Mana Core, left behind during the chaotic theft.
Han-wool didn't hesitate. He grabbed the B-Rank core and crunched it between his teeth.
> [Ding!]
> You have consumed 'Amartya's Mana Core'.
> Unknown Skill Awakened: «Necromancy» (Unknown Grade)
> [Skill Description: Necromancy]
> Role: The Sovereign of the Departed.
> - You can extract the shadows of the fallen to create loyal undead soldiers.
> - Stolen Skill Impartation: You may grant ONE of your stolen skills to a summoned skeleton. The skill's power will scale with the skeleton's level.
> - Current Limit: 1 Skeleton Soldier.
>
Han-wool collapsed, his lungs burning with the cold weight of the Miasma. He looked at his hands—they were scarred, the skin blackened, but a faint purple smoke now drifted from his fingertips.
"Boss!" Woojin crawled toward him, clutching his bleeding shoulder. Jin-joo limped over, her bronze skin fading back to normal.
Hajin ran to Han-wool, sobbing, and hugged him. "Brother! You saved me! I saw it... you were like a hero!"
Han-wool looked at his little brother, then at his battered team. He had won, but the cost was clear. He had force-evolved his enemy into a focused King, and in return, he had become the very thing he once hunted.
"We're leaving," Han-wool whispered, his voice cracking. "The Kim family will be here soon. We can't be found."
As they made their way toward the exit, Han-wool looked back at the ruins of the mountain. The twelve-year countdown was back. But now, the enemy knew his face. And Han-wool had finally become a Necromancer.