Undone- Resurrection of Murdock

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Undone- Resurrection of Murdock Page 7

by Jacob Cavalida


  Clack! Clack! Clack!

  Just then, loud and heavy footsteps echoed outside the room, interrupting the duo’s ageist banter. Adam quickly ducked and motioned with his hand for silence. He then beckoned Terrence to follow. Slowly, the two hid behind discarded wine barrels. Lifting the lid, Terrence recalled Goo back inside the coffer;The hound turned into a thick cloud of red and black smoke and snuck inside his cozy strongbox. Terrence then closed the coffer and carefully tucked it in between his arms, hiding it under his clerical clothes.

  A group of six armed men came inside the room hastily. Although each of them wore a unique piece of equipment, one person stood out in particular—a lean man wearing nothing but a thin chainmail shirt and a pair of skimpy leather pants.

  Ridiculous as the man looked, the rest of the group seemed to not care about his odd choice of clothing and just went with it as if it was the most ordinary thing in the world. The strange, drag-queen-like man scrunched his nose as he started sniffing the air. “I can’t smell them out, but they couldn’t possibly get that far as the other teams are already blocking the exits. Find them! They might still be here somewhere,” he instructed in a sharp tone, unbefitting of his muscular build.

  Without delay, the others swept the room closely.

  From the look of things, it appeared as so the diva-like man was leading the group. He repeatedly paced back and forth while keeping a close watch at the other five men working. The room was spacious enough that it warranted a longer and more thorough search. The strange man sonorously smacked his bulging lips as his patience grew thinner.

  The other five men unwittingly worked a tad faster after hearing the resounding lip smacks, terrified they’d get treated with a “special brand of wrath” only their transvestite leader could serve. The sound of barrels getting overturned, shutters and blinds getting pulled, and tables getting flipped echoed loudly inside the bloodied room.

  ‘What’s this?’ one of the five men wondered as he took a peek behind a stack of empty barrels.

  Albeit he knew that most den rooms have sick and distasteful decors, he never knew some clients had morbid fetishes that they’d even go as far as displaying skeletons to look like adornments. “I hate to think this, but some of these freaks needed to die anyway,” he muttered, looking disgusted at the dead clients. The man inspected the eerie ornaments after noticing that one skeleton was holding something lustrous. His high perception as an archer enabled him to see through the veil covering the said object. ‘It’s a treasure box!’ he exclaimed inwardly. Alerting no one, the archer man boldly took a gander.

  He crept slowly, making sure not to attract any attention, especially not their leader. The man’s graceful, feather-like movement stood to attest to his skill as a seasoned marksman. In his head—If he could pilfer the treasure for himself with no one knowing, all the hassle in answering an emergency call late at night would all be worth it. He couldn’t care less about tampering with what could be evidence.

  As he was reaching for the box, the archer man incidentally caught a glimpse at what the other skeleton was holding.

  The hairs on his back stood on end as his eyes laid upon a pair of blades still dripping with warm blood. In horror, he peered at the sockets of the supposed ornamental skull. A streak of blue light flashed! No, they weren’t flames from a lit candle; The marksman thought as much. Before he could ponder any further, the horrid blades suddenly came rushing! One was forcibly shoved into his mouth, the other through his right eye. A gush of blood spurted on both ends as the archer struggled to escape.

  As expected of the group’s leader—his sensitive nose quickly picked up the smell of fresh blood before the rest could even react to what just happened. “There you are!” he exclaimed. Indifferent to his injured comrade, the transvestite leader approached the undead with eyes full of excitement. There and then Adam saw through the crazed man; the insane demeanor had matched his ridiculous outfit well.—“He’s definitely a lunatic…”

  ...

  Arokha

  Class - Sura

  Title - Champion of Faith. Glutton of Punishment.

  Level - 30

  [Health - 780]

  [Mana - 80]

  ...

  “... And he could level up as well.” It was no wonder the other five feared the strange man. Not only was he already powerful, but he could also get stronger! His current health and mana pool had already exceeded the norm. And he could only grow more. Ordinary people, like Terrence and the rest, could provide experience points to those with hero systems based on their total experience value. This value could vary heavily depending on the person’s profession, lifestyle, wealth, etcetera. In short; the stronger, richer, and more influential the person, the more experience points he could “provide”—Of course, that would only happen upon death.

  Adam then noted his own status sheet — Level - 10 (95/100).

  “I’m just five points shy from a level up...” Adam was quite disappointed that his one-two hit did not kill the archer instantly. He had attacked the marksman's mouth to silence him, but his attempt proved futile. Hitting his eye, however, resulted favorably—It ensured Adam a five-versus-one set-up instead of fighting against six. “I could really use the extra health points,” Adam muttered, looking at the battle-hungry man in front of him.

  None but Terrence understood his blabbering. Literally.

  Arokha stood confidently in front of Adam.

  Although he felt that the monster was sizing him up—probing his strengths and weaknesses to an extent—he did not mind at all and just let things be. The better prepared the opponent, the harder their fight would be. While the other four took care of their injured comrade, Arokha braced himself for a battle against a monster who dared intrude the infamous Den of Relief.

  “Surely you’re not like any other skeleton monsters, right? It’d be a shame if you are,” he said with a wide grin.

  “I really hope so?” Adam gave a cheeky remark knowing full well that the other party could not understand him either way. ‘He’s three-folds stronger than I am. I had my fair share of idiocy in the past. Let’s not add more to it today, shall we?’ Adam talked himself through the situation, like a father giving pointers to his son on his debut hunt. A disadvantageous fight against an overwhelmingly strong opponent would—almost always—never end well.

  With that kept in mind, Adam rushed towards the enemy with his blades crossed forward. Surprisingly, the latter did not move an inch. Arokha was even smiling at the scene of a skeleton sprinting towards him. ‘Just as I thought,’ he halted halfway and threw one of his swords toward the direction of Arokha. Cling! The attack completely whiffed as it hit the wall instead.

  “That was disappointing?” Arokha said in dismay.

  He couldn’t help but look at the blade that had pitifully missed its mark. However, turning his back on the opponent was a mistake. A piercing whistle sounded as another sword cut through the air. This time, Adam wielded the weapon properly instead of tossing it.

  Clank! The dull blade clashed against the metal links along the shoulder section of the chainmail shirt. Arokha barely avoided the sudden attack. If it weren’t for his inhuman reflexes, the blade would have made it to his unarmored neck. Albeit the sword wasn’t sharp; It still went through by a hair's breadth, leaving the slightest of cuts on Arokha’s leather-like skin.

  Arokha let out a strange sensual moan as if the numbing pain from the cut pleased him. Odd as his reaction was, it failed to faze Adam. In fact, Adam was already expecting it to happen. A sacrilegious, masochistic monk—the title “Glutton of Punishment”, was a dead giveaway. Adam quickly turned and distanced himself from Arokha.

  [Health - 780] — Not even a single point was shaved off of Arokha’s health pool!

  “Yes! That’s more like it!” Arokha jeered. As he turned, however, “Huh? Where is it?” To his surprise, the monster he was taunting just now… disappeared! As a monk who had lived in the frigid Frost Alps, Arokha lost
his ability to hear clearly due to the extreme cold. To compensate for such a loss, he had improved his other senses after his defection.

  If Arokha could only hear well, then he would have noticed the subtle clicking of bones when the undead ran and hid. Arokha then tried sniffing the air, only to realize that the overwhelming pungent smell of blood had masked the room. Coincidentally, having no rotting flesh, Adam was odorless.

  ‘He couldn’t have possibly escaped?’ Arokha turned his attention to the closest exit, only to hear another whistling noise nearing him. Kakching!—This time, Adam’s sword did not hit Arokha’s chainmail shirt, but a pair of pitch-black daggers instead. A charming young man draped in a regal coat stood between Adam and Arokha.

  ...

  Larik Tafel

  Class - Elemental Assassin

  Value - 25

  Health - 150

  Mana - 70

  …

  Adam noted the youthful man’s status and quickly retreated a few steps back.

  It did not take long before the rest of the group stepped in, including the injured archer.

  Chapter XIII

  Sliver Slip

  Like water bursting out of a broken dam, a barrage of attacks came rushing towards Adam.

  A hammer-wielding warrior, a duelist, and a caster have jumped into the fray. Not even the masochistic Arokha stopped his team from attacking the monster altogether. If there was anything a glutton like him hated more than being hogged off of a fight; it would be getting tricked by the opponent. Adam seemed to have struck a “sensitive nerve” when he hit the monk with a sneak attack. It was a petty notion. “I’ll crush your skull and turn it dust!” Arokha roared.

  'This is not looking good…'

  “Terrence, stay there and don’t make a move. I’ll find us a way out,” Adam instructed while keeping his attention towards the enemies. If he were to turn his head while talking, they might have suspected that something was up. Adam tried to keep a cool head as he made a run for the exit. There was no way he could win against all six head-ons, this much he understood. Adam had hoped to injure Arokha and ruin morale, but the assassin had unexpectedly stepped in.

  Now, at the very least, he hoped to lure everyone out and let Terrence escape.

  Adam sprinted. The only ones tailing him closely were Larik and the duelist; The buff warrior could barely catch up while carrying his gigantic mallet. ‘Why is the caster not attacking?’ Adam wondered. However, it didn't take long before he got an answer. The busted exit suddenly had a door-sized palm blocking it. It was a monk's spell for sure; But at a closer look, one would notice traces of amplification done to the enormous magical barrier—mysterious runic inscriptions littered the illusory hand.

  Betrayed by his own momentum, Adam incidentally ran himself unto the barrier. The palm repelled the undead and a loud boom followed by a series of cackling noises exploded. Sparks dazzled the dimly lit room.

  “Status effects [Shock], [Confuse], and [Burn] negated.”

  Adam tumbled across the room, but then stood back up almost immediately thanks to his ailment immunity. Unfortunately, the enemy left him with no room to rest. “You’re not going anywhere!” It took less than a breath for Arokha to close the distance between him and Adam. With both his fists, the rabid monk pounded down the undead incessantly. — [Health - 230/ 300]. Bits and pieces of bones started chipping off Adam as his health points dwindled.

  For every pause Arokha took, an attack from someone else followed. Mana spears, sword cuts, and a giant mallet battering down quickly depleted Adam’s health. ‘What can I do to get out of this mess?!’ Adam thought as his health neared zero. Cobweb-like cracks started appearing on his skull. A glance at his own status sheet gave little hope for him. ‘... Ailment and Dark Magic Immunity, Authority of the Undone, Analyze—’ He skimmed over his arsenal of skills and abilities, only for him to skip a useful “perk” mistakenly. “Life Charge!” Adam recalled. He had no choice but to use one.

  “Terrence, just stay there and don’t move! I’ll be fine. Once the barrier collapses, quickly escape with Goo. I’ll follow right after. Trust me on this!” Adam hastily instructed right before Arokha delivered the final blow.

  Bam!—The monk’s fists pulverized the undead monster.

  [Health - 0] Charges - 3

  Just as anyone would, the party threw their caution to the wind and let their guard down as soon as the undead died. They saw with their own eyes that the light in the monster’s socket faded right after its skull got crushed. It was proof enough that the fight was over. If anything, it was already over when the monster mistakenly angered their leader.

  “Somehow, that felt like overkill,” the caster said as he pulled loose the scarf around his neck. He then stretched his arms and cracked his knuckles with an exhausted yet satisfied look on his face. The rest followed suit and shook off their own weariness.

  “Well, it sort of looks that way?” Larik added while twirling a dagger. The marksman stood beside Larik and took a peek at the ruined undead. He had abstained from taking part in the fight and didn't approach the monster until now. Given, he would’ve been useless, anyway. Even though the bleeding had stopped, his injuries couldn’t possibly be reverted. Both his mouth and right eye were still in terrible condition.

  “A Life Charge will now be consumed...” — “Life Charge successfully consumed!”

  …

  Slash! — “A vital point was targeted.”... “Critical Hit!”

  “Gained + 35 EXP.”... “Congratulations, you leveled up!”

  “Level 11 - (30/100)”

  [Health - 320] Charges - 2

  [Mana - 62]

  ...

  Call it confidence or carelessness, either way—the party of six could not have expected such a shocking turn of events to unfold suddenly. “I should have known...” Arokha muttered. Before him, his comrade—the caster—fell on the floor, lifeless. One could see a gaping cut on the man’s neck, just slightly above his loose kerchief. It was a wound far too deep and fatal for even the most proficient healer to cure in an instant. A white figure stood behind the dead man.

  Deafening silence pervaded the room as Adam streaked past everyone and unto his next unsuspecting victim: the injured marksman.

  Adam clung his thin yet tough arms around the archer as he held a blade merely an inch away from the man’s neck. At the same time, the runes surrounding the palm barrier were dissipating. “Wait until it gets thinner. When I say run, you run.” Adam glanced at Terrence and instructed. No one could hear the two converse. Everyone else could only hear indiscernible, monstrous grumblings.

  Slash!

  The subtle sound of a sword cut kindled their seething rage. The crude thud that followed then ignited it all.

  “Gained + 30 EXP.”

  A notification rang as the marksman fell. It merely took a “graze” on the neck for Adam to kill the archer as the latter didn't have much health left because of his injuries. Landing a critical hit would have felt redundant; a bit of an overkill.

  “You’re fucking dead to me!” Arokha raged as he went charging in.

  If not for his pride as the leader, he couldn’t have cared less about his comrades. It just did not sit well with him that the monster was able to kill two of his team members even with him around. “I’ll burn your bones and make sure you don’t get to see the light of day ever again!” the furious monk rebuked, his usual “feminine” tone faded for a short while.

  Grotesque flame emblems glowed around Arokha’s arms, forming a pair of bright orange bracers.

  A soft amber hue then glowed on his palms as he shot a palm strike at Adam.

  Bam! [Health - 200/ 300]… “Status effect [Burn] negated.”

  Adam lost a hundred health points in a single attack. He was flung far away but stood back up quickly. Fortunately, the system promptly negated the lingering status effect. The burn could have easily taken a hundred points more.

  ‘I have to last a tad lo
nger,’ Adam thought.

  The barrier gradually faded. Adam just had to distract Arokha for a few more minutes so he wouldn’t have the strength nor the attention left to refortify his barrier spell. Although the room was spacious, it was not enough for Adam to outrun anyone. Like a wild hare running away from a group of hunters, Adam went in circles to buy himself some time; at least enough time for the barrier to disappear completely.

  Another palm strike came whistling.

  “Good. Go waste your mana on me!” [Health - 100/ 300]. “Status effect [Burn] negated.”

  Adam took another hit and a hundred more points disappeared in a snap. It didn't take long for Larik and the rest to follow up. The swashbuckling duelist rushed wildly but dealt the least amount of damage as his attacks could barely hit the almost hollow skeleton. Larik did better than the duelist, but his magic was bare of any use against the impregnable immunity.

  Just then—the barrier collapsed. With no delay, Terrence unsealed the coffer and Goo was let loose. The priest rode the church grim as it charged towards the exit. The sudden commotion took the party by surprise. Not letting the opportunity slip, Adam hopped on and rode with Terrence out of the room. Arokha snapped out quickly as he then gave chase.

  He didn't have enough time nor mana to redo the barrier, and so he ran and reached from the hound instead.

  “I knew this thing would come in handy,” Adam muttered as he took out the amulet the tall man had. He then pointed it at Arokha and chanted, “Urgus!” A blinding beam of light struck the monk, pushing him back. That same short distance allowed Adam, Terrence, and Goo to fully escape. The unlikely trio faded into the darkness of the den.

  Chapter XIV

  Alternatives

  His ribcage pulsated; expanding and contracting like a lung. Despite not having a respiratory system—or any organ at all, for that matter—Adam managed to “heave a sigh of relief” after narrowly escaping Arokha and his rowdy party. He didn’t even need to catch his breath as he rode on Goo this entire time, yet he gasped for air. “We must pick our fights better next time,” Adam said, panting still. Perhaps some humanly habits die harder than others.

 

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