Chapter 26: Dead Shot

Cassian’s gaze fell upon the familiar description of his primary Blessing:

​[Fusion]

The bearer of this blessing may fuse three identical components into a higher-grade version. Valid components include items, skills, summons, authorities, artifacts, resources, and other compatible entities. Each successful fusion advances the target by one Grade.

​Limitations:

​Only identical components may be fused.

​Three components are required per fusion.

​Cassian reread the text several times, two details immediately standing out. The first was that skills could indeed be fused; the second was that the components had to be identical.

​His fingers drummed lightly against his knee. "...That’s the problem."

​His eyes shifted toward the Archer’s skill roster:

​[Deathmark Sight]

​[Lone Shot]

​[Rapid Shot]

​Three completely different skills.

​Cassian rubbed his chin as he contemplated the mechanics. Fusion required identical components, that rule had never failed before.

Every item he had fused shared the exact same nature, whether it was weapons, materials, or basic resources.

​Yet these were skills, not physical objects.

​Skills were the manifestation of martial comprehension and the crystallization of understanding. Because of that, Cassian doubted it was even possible for two skills to be truly identical.

No two combatants comprehended a technique in the exact same way; even if two individuals possessed a skill named Aura Blade, the subtle differences in their personal execution would make them unique.

​So what exactly counted as ’identical’ when it came to skills?

​Cassian didn’t know, and that uncertainty made him hesitate.

​If he made a reckless move now... if Fusion failed... if the blessing interpreted failure as total destruction... he could lose all three skills at once. The Archer would be stripped of its abilities, and the elites would be left with even fewer tools against whatever monstrosity they were facing.

​The confidence he had felt moments ago began to waver. Overthinking crept into his mind, spinning out worst-case scenarios.

​What if it doesn’t work? What if I make things worse? What if—

​A flurry of urgent red notifications flashed before his sight:

​[Alert!] Elite Skeleton Tank Condition Critical.

[Alert!] Elite Skeleton Knight Condition Critical.

[Alert!] Elite Skeleton Assassin Condition Critical.

​Cassian’s expression darkened, his thoughts spiraling into chaos.

​At that moment, a pale hand reached out and grasped his.

​Cassian blinked in surprise and turned.

​Nyxara was looking up at him from the grave pit, her injuries far from healed. Yet her gaze never wavered, there was no fear in those violet eyes, no hesitation, and no doubt.

​There was only absolute, unwavering faith.

​It was the exact same faith he had demanded from her earlier in the Umbralwood, and the exact same trust she had placed in him without question.

​Cassian stared at her, then down at their joined hands.

​"..."

​The next moment—

​Smack!

​Nyxara jumped, her eyes widening. Cassian had slapped himself firmly across the cheek.

​"My Lord?!"

​Cassian exhaled deeply, then let out a short laugh, at himself, at his sudden hesitation, and at the bitter irony of the moment.

​Just minutes ago, he had told Nyxara to trust him and place her fate in him. Yet the moment real responsibility pressed down on his shoulders, he had started doubting himself.

​Wasn’t that pure hypocrisy?

​Cassian shook his head. "In a situation like this..." He chuckled softly. "...do I really have the luxury to sit here overthinking?"

​Nyxara stared at him silently.

​Cassian’s smile gradually widened, the cold resolve returning to his eyes. "It’s simple. There are only two outcomes: we either succeed... or we don’t."

​His eyes sharpened into steel. "If I hesitate, the elites die. If I act, they might live. The choice isn’t difficult."

​He rose to his feet, the lingering uncertainty in his eyes vanishing entirely, replaced by absolute determination.

​"I told you to believe in me," he said, meeting Nyxara’s gaze. "If I can’t even believe in myself... then what right do I have to call myself your Lord?"

​Nyxara stared at him, that strange, unfamiliar warmth stirring within her chest once more. It wasn’t her heart, as she no longer possessed one, yet something was undeniably there.

​’What is this...?’ she found herself wondering.

​Cassian, however, had already made his decision. The elites would perish either way if nothing changed; even if Fusion failed and destroyed the skills, their deaths were already a certainty under the current trajectory. Failure would simply hasten what was already coming.

​But Cassian refused to accept that outcome. He would force a new path forward.

​His eyes locked onto the three skills floating in the interface:

​[Deathmark Sight]

​[Lone Shot]

​[Rapid Shot]

​He reached out with his will, invoking the full force of his Blessing. Mana erupted, and a brilliant light burst from the skill panel, illuminating the cramped grave pit.

​"Let me find out," Cassian declared, his voice echoing through the quiet Cemetery. "Fusion!"

​The moment the command left his lips, the three skill icons trembled violently, and a system prompt flared before his vision.

​[Fusion Initiated...]

System notifications exploded across Cassian’s vision.

​[Deathmark Sight has been destroyed.]

[Rapid Shot has been destroyed.]

[Lone Shot has been destroyed.]

​For a brief, agonizing moment, complete silence filled the burial pit.

​Nyxara’s violet eyes widened in shock. The skills... they were gone.

​Yet Cassian remained perfectly still, no panic, no regret, no anger. His eyes remained locked onto the Ledger screen, waiting.

​Then, a new notification flared.

​[A new skill has been realized.]

[Elite Skeleton Archer has comprehended a new Skill.]

​[Death Shot]

Grade: Advanced

​Cassian’s eyes widened, and pure, unfiltered euphoria exploded across his face.

​"It worked," he whispered, his voice trembling with exhilaration. "It actually worked!"

​Nyxara stared at the floating notification panel, then at her Lord, and back at the notification. A skill fusion, something that should have been conceptually impossible, and yet he had executed it effortlessly.

​Cassian clenched his fist as a sudden rush of understanding flowed through the soul link. A new skill, a new baseline, and a terrifying new possibility had just taken root.

​Far away, deep within the Bonefang Wastes, the battle had reached its conclusion. Or so the Immature Bonedevourer believed.

​The monstrous creature held the Elite Skeleton Tank suspended by its neck. The Tank’s body was riddled with deep fractures, its shield had long since shattered, and its soul fire flickered weakly.

​Yet she continued beating it, again, and again, and again.

​Each blow caved in bone, each impact cracked ribs, and each strike dragged the undead defender closer to permanent destruction.

The Bonedevourer grinned, savoring the sound. The skeleton was far more resilient than it had any right to be, which only made breaking it all the more satisfying.

​The Elite Knight lay several meters away, its Bone Blade shattered, its armor fractured, and its frame barely functional. The Elite Assassin was in no better shape, missing an arm entirely with its twin daggers discarded in the dirt nearby.

​As for the Archer... she had deliberately saved it for last, leaving it pinned against a dead tree, broken, helpless, and completely drained.

​At that exact moment, a strange, spectral light flashed through the Archer’s frame.

​The soul fire within its skull blazed with sudden comprehension. The sensation lasted less than a second before vanishing, but the Archer’s fingers moved.

​Slowly and painfully, it reached down, grasped its bow, and picked up its final remaining arrow.

​The Bonedevourer noticed, a mocking smile spreading across her pale face. Even now, after everything, the hollow creature still intended to fight? How pathetic.

​The Archer raised its bow, drew the string back, and aimed directly at her chest.

​The Bonedevourer’s mocking smile remained, until the mana gathered.

​Her grin vanished instantly. The volume of energy condensing around the arrowhead was wrong, completely wrong.

​Primal instincts screamed throughout her entire body: Danger! Danger! Danger!

​The Archer’s core roared as dark, volatile energy condensed around the tip of the arrow. For the first time since the battle began, true fear struck the Bonedevourer’s heart.

​She moved instantly to crush the Archer before it could finish charging, but the Tank acted first. Despite its shattered frame and critical state, it lunged forward and locked both arms around her waist from behind.

​The Bonedevourer snarled, but the Knight dragged itself up, its cracked frame lunging to seize her left arm. The Assassin materialized from stealth, its remaining hand clamping tightly around her right shoulder.

​All three Elites held on with everything they had, not because they could stop her, but because they only needed to buy a single second.

​The Archer’s frame creaked violently as deep cracks spread across its limbs under the immense pressure of the gathering mana, yet it refused to stop.

​The Bonedevourer screamed, unleashing a wave of kinetic force that blasted the Tank away, shattered the Knight’s grip, and sent the Assassin spinning through the air.

​It was already too late.

​The Archer had finished charging. Its soul fire blazed brighter than ever before as the bowstring reached its absolute limit.

​The skeleton’s jaw opened, its strained, raspy voice echoing across the clearing:

​"Die... bastard."

​The string released.

​Death Shot.

​The arrow traveled so fast it appeared to vanish from reality. One moment it sat knocked on the bow; the next, it hovered mere inches from the Bonedevourer’s face.

​Time seemed to slow to a crawl.

​The creature saw it clearly, the jet-black shaft, the spectral skull-shaped death energy wrapped around the tip, the twisted horns, and the absolute certainty of annihilation.

​BOOM!

​The impact was deafening. The projectile tore clean through her chest, launching her three-meter frame backward through the air for dozens of meters before slamming her into an ancient dead tree.

​The Bonedevourer stared down in horror at the gaping hole in her torso. Dark, necrotic energy spread rapidly through her flesh, ripping away her life force, her vitality, and her very existence.

​She tried to scream, but no sound escaped her throat as spectral jaws of dark energy closed around her, devouring her evolution, her strength, and her future.

​The last thing she saw before darkness claimed her was the Elite Skeleton Archer slowly lowering its bow, its soul fire flickering weakly, yet burning far brighter than hers ever could.