So this place had undead; that was just perfect. Not only that, but these doors apparently shifted to different locations. Magic teleporting doors to undead hallways. My anger was intense, and finding something to unleash it on was incredibly convenient.

  Without further ado, I sped forward with every ounce of strength at my disposal. Aetherblade in hand, I activated the weapon and sliced the nearest skeleton across its chest.

  Before the undead creature could fully raise its rusted axe, I bisected it. Bones fell haphazardly, and the experience prompt was all I needed to continue. Fueled by my first slain enemy with my new weapon. I turned to the rest.

  I felt my senses heighten. My reflexes made the world feel slower as I glided through, light and free. Three more skeletons wielding axes approached, but they moved at a snail's pace.

  I sliced one's head off and then blocked an uncoordinated strike from the headless creature. Realising that was not the best option, I quickly dispatched him with a kinetic strike to the rib cage.

  The light tap from my palm, augmented by a sudden release of kinetic energy, blasted his body to pieces. That skill was getting a real workout, and the minor backlash was manageable. Just a dull ache from the impact, not worth mentioning.

  Emboldened by another success, I dodged the descent of an axe to my right and dragged my blade across the offending skeleton. The savage strike pulverised him, her, or it. Revealing my weapon was not just a simple cutting tool.

  By some contradiction, it could impose bludgeoning damage and piercing damage at the same time. I wondered if my intent was affecting the blade, changing the way the force blade interacts with an enemy.

  But alas, there was not enough time for thought as another axe descended. Yeah, they really liked that stuff. I dispatched the weak skeleton just as easily as the others.

  Now surrounded by scattered bones and a creepy-looking hallway of the dead. I had only one thought, one idea that struck me out of the blue. As I glanced around at the peculiar architecture, so familiar. The moss-covered masonry, the general, catacombs meet a tomb vibe.

  "I swear, someone copied this from a video game!"

  I mean, I knew the gods got inspired by earth-based video games. And sometimes it shows a lot in their world design, especially their labyrinths, dungeons and tombs. I am sure if Earth ever reached the multiverse and lawyers got enough power to oppose the gods, they would take every single one of them to court.

  Shrugging, I ventured on, leaving the copyright laws to the lawyers and their gods, if they have any. Actually, im sure there is a god of law out there. He, she or it is probably super into this and could theoretically sue other gods for copyright infringement.

  It was a possibility and quickly faded to a background thought as I passed another skull ornament. I mean, why would they decorate the walls with skulls? Sure, it's a decent motif and fits the undead catacombs vibe.

  Maybe I was being too judgmental. Anyone lost and alone would find the place scary and ominous. So I had to give the creator props. It's hard to be in the design department. Assuming this was a designed tomb, it could be a native-made construct. The gods allowed the populated worlds to flourish of their own accord.

  Entering the next room, I found another passage in the distance and a bunch of coffins embedded in the walls. Hidden away within tiny study nooks, their occupants slumbered and were peaceful. That was until this mortal heretic, a vile living being, placed his dirty feet upon sacred ground. Oh, and Jeremy waltzing in like he owned the place probably didn't help.

  Rattling coffins and the wailing of the furious dead suggested we had made a faux pas. But hey, they locked me in this place, and while I was technically an invader. Actually, yeah, I don't have the moral high ground.

  "There's no point rationalising if they want to go zombie on me. I will oblige with a decapitation, assuming that works." I declared, brandishing my weapon, and Jeremy hissed at everything.

  For a moment, I pondered integrating my cat into the system and turning that hiss into a sonic attack. But then realised that was a bad idea because everything would die. Shaking that horrific thought away, one of the nearby coffins burst open, stone and gravel thrown about as a very unhappy chap pulled himself free.

  [Unyielding Gravewalker. Level 12.]

  It was a slightly stronger undead that was supposedly unyielding. Did that mean it would not fall to weapons forged by mortal hands? Hopefully not, since that would be bad. Its glowing blue eyes turned to me and, despite my expectation, it didn't screech or wail. Instead, it just casually reached into its coffin and withdrew an ancient-looking short sword.

  The weapon looked cool though, all spiky and runic. Not as cool as my epic creation. So I matched his energy and prepared to fight someone much higher level than me. Oddly, it didn't run at me or leap across like a feral beast. He just walked over, weapon raised in a guard position, before striking with an impressive lunge.

  Well, I assumed it was, and so sidestepped and parried. Those fencing lessons really helped. The office renaissance parties were the best. Preparing a riposte, I missed him entirely as he stepped back, narrowly dodging the strike before lunging at my exposed side.

  Right before the blade pierced my flesh, I activated my barrier, just as I was about to be skewered like a stuck pig. I felt the drain as all the energy in my attribute turned its focus to a single point. The undead's sword bounced harmlessly, giving me time to bring down a diagonal strike across his face.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  He dodged slightly, but ended up with a deep gash from his left eye to his neck. Being undead, he naturally shrugged it off and kept coming at me. Stepping back, I brought up my sword and clashed with his in the middle. What followed was a test of strength, and I doubted I had the stamina to beat a dead man.

  Pushing against his strength, I poured every ounce of my force attribute into my extremities, matching his might. It became very clear that we were at an impasse. Neither giving ground, locked in combat. I glared into his glowing blue eyes and impassive shriveled face. What I saw was a faint flicker of expression.

  His eyes glowed brighter, his gaze locked firm on to me and nothing else. In those eyes, there was something, and I couldn't help but stare. Pain wracked my head, causing me to loosen my grip on my weapon slightly.

  [Warning! You have been affected by the skill, Echo of the Fallen.]

  Suddenly, the world around me faded, and my sense of self flew away on the breeze of my life. Instead of a crypt filled with musty coffins and hostile undead. I was standing atop the battlements as fire and death reigned supreme.

  The siege was not going well. The kingdom would soon fall, and this last bastion of hope would drown in its own blood. Assuming the wretched creatures allow any drop to remain. No matter even if we are to fall, let them fall with us. The sentiment filled my entire being as I raised my blade to the heavens, only the moon of a gloomy night to return my favour.

  The sun had abandoned us, and so mortals must fight in the dark, against the dark itself. Worn and tired men of the fort, drenched in sweat and blood. Draped in armour with the insignia that no longer mattered. Beneath us, a writhing mass of fangs and claws. They needed no ladder; their claws sufficed as they ascended.

  "Kill the forsaken!" I command every man and woman with arms to bear a weapon.

  Sword held aloft, directed at the creature that dared to stand on sacred ground. It held a weapon — a sword like mine, but cursed by foul magic. At least it fought like a warrior and not a beast that they so loved to send out.

  With the grace of a monster, it leapt atop the battlements, its crimson armour glinting in the moonlight as it showed its fangs. Battle cries for the fallen replaced all further words. Not wasting a moment, I charged my foe, blocking his strike with my tower shield. Yes, I had a tower shield. I wondered where that went.

  The corrosive curse failed to defeat the blessed shield, and its blade rebounded. In that moment I struck, lunging for its chest, ready to skewer it with a silver blade. The silver blade itself had no effect on the creature, but the blessing sure did.

  The monster parried the strike and struck with such inhuman speed. Barely able to detect the strike, all I could do was hunker down with my shield. As another strike came, I found my opportunity, lunged again. A faint yes, I knew such skills.

  Strength radiated from my core as a false blade made up my energies and replaced my own. The creature parried it, only for the true blade to slip under his guard and pierce his chest. With the advantage, I smashed in his face with the end of my shield. Unleashing all my rage as my world burned.

  Once the creature was dead, someone had removed its head at some point. I turned back to the battle and saw my world fall. My companions were nothing but empty husks as more of the forsaken surrounded me. Breathing in and out, I readied for death as they fell upon me, all at once.

  Tearing me limb from limb, ripping my shield away, discarding the sword of my father like it was trash. Claws and fangs raked over my body; my screams drowned out as the wave of death consumed me.

  I had failed my king, my father, and my world. Fallen and forgotten, forever still in this crypt, to die as an echo. Perhaps we should die here and rest for all time. But that made little sense. I wasn't a noble warrior, ready to die on a hill for his king.

  The world came back to me in an instant, still struggling against the blade. Only now that I was losing the test of strength, my grip weakening and my blade nearing my eye. Soon I would die by my weapon, as the undead bore down on me.

  In that moment, an idea sprang to mind — something I had never considered. What about a feint? I did that atop the castle against many of the forsaken. No, that wasn't right. I didn't do that. Mind jumbled, I relied on instinct and processed a path within a second.

  Sending a command to my weapon, I dispelled the force blade. It vanished as I quickly dodged, reactivated the weapon, passed through his guard and sliced his head off. Or that would have happened. Instead, I nearly got my head cut off, and I missed him completely.

  It would have been so cool to have done that. Instead, he fell forward on his own momentum. Taking advantage, I spun around and sliced the back of his neck while he was down. It took a few times, hacking him to death or whatever happens to the undead.

  Urged on by a fury that was not my own, I hacked and slashed. With every blow struck, the undead turned from a walking corpse to a still corpse, absent a head. Finally, it stopped moving, and I was free to relax.

  "Oh, that was weird." I said, trying to shake away the memories.

  All of that was short-lived as the sound of another coffin opening resounded. Another corpse to fight, I could already detect a running theme.

  "This is going to be my whole day."

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