Searching For Andromeda 49 Dungeon | Part 7 Necropolis - To Battle

Samuel listened. Perceived. Enhanced his senses.

And waited.

"Here it comes," Pelmon whispers as he draws his sword from its sheathe. It looked like those swords in adventurers seen in MMORPGs Samuel sees one of his cla.s.smates plays. It looked sharp, and even Samuel's face reflected with dread had manifested in it.

Samuel glanced back to the pitch-black darkness. Suddenly, it was eerier than ever because they were antic.i.p.ating something unknown lurking within it. Since there was no moon in sight, the necropolis looked like an enclosed s.p.a.ce—and in that enclosed s.p.a.ce, one wouldn't be able to determine what ent.i.ty or ent.i.ties could be swarming around as their impending death approaches.

And then, Samuel's eyes widened.

Now he understands what Pelmon was talking about.

Who he was talking about.

"Necromorph." Hosea tightens the book he was holding. Samuel's face slowly grew pale as it slowly comes to the light emanating from the fire.

Slowly emerging from the darkness was a tall figure with the body of a deteriorating flesh—it had the body of a human; a head, a torso, legs, and arms. But in its back was two razor-sharp pointed claws. Its face was like a tall and lean person with no skin—only muscle and bones.

Samuel's heartbeat sped up as the necromorph loomed towards the team, slowly sauntering towards them without taking its gaze off of the group. At every waking moment, it unbridled sets of sounds. A low growl, and a silent whimper.

The necromorph towered at least a meter above them. It peered down—glowering at the group with its red, glowing eyes. Samuel stopped breathing as he met the eyes of the necromorph. It looked straight at Samuel's electric-blue eyes as if it was staring right through his soul—piercing its sharp claws to the darkness of his thoughts. He found himself unable to move. Immobilized from his spot, Samuel parted his lips and inhaled sharply as the necromorph proceeded to lower its head down.

With Samuel's sharp inhale, the necromorph grew alarmed. Its low growls gradually grew louder. Louder and louder until it made rampant body movements. It had seizures and fervently started to shake its head and twist its arms in hauntingly disturbing places. And then . . . it stopped for a moment—before it screamed a terrifying, horrid growl—like that of an animal's angry, helpless cry.

"Scatter!" Hosea says, which was followed by the team dispersing backward. Vashti pulled Samuel to her back as she held her staff. Arletha pointed her arrow to the necromorph, waiting to shoot from above. Pelmon on the other hand stood beside Yael, who was now standing heedfully, ready for battle.

Hosea's book opened, and it floated to the air, its pages glowing. Samuel's eyes widened upon seeing this. What was that? Is this—something they said earlier? Magic? Illusion?

The necromorph growled piercingly and primed to attack. Its arms went flying, aiming to swipe down to where Hosea was. Samuel parted his gaze to warn Hosea, but then stopped shortly after he sees the necromorph's arms topping midway—like it was being stopped by an invisible force.

"Don't worry," says Vashti, noticing Samuel's surprised expression paired with bedazzlement. "We created a barrier to ward them off,"

Samuel blinked as he sees the necromorph pounding its hands and claws continuously to the 'barrier,' which was now perceivable to the naked eye. The barrier took shape of a round, spherical unseen s.h.i.+eld with inscriptions of strange symbols and markings spreading around like a lid. The markings were the ones that glowed a yellow light, resembling the nimble on Hosea's book.

"Grimoire," Hosea exclaims, which made the pages of the book start to shuffle rapidly. He then propelled his arm forward, with his palms in front of the undead being.

"What is Hosea doing?" Samuel asks.

It was Pelmon who answered his question. "He's chanting a Grimoire Protection to strengthen the barrier."

"Grimoire . . . Protection?" Samuel asks. "You mean like magic and stuff?"

"Hosea is our healer," Vashti exclaims. "He cannot conjure magic spells for harming. He is a Grimoire Protector. I am the Mage. I do the 'magic' you pertain to," Vashti clears. Although it wasn't that clear for Samuel, he was able to realize the gist of Vashti's statement: Hosea didn't mean to defeat the monster.

After Hosea finished his enchantment, his grimoire stopped gleaming. He then walked back towards them as he slid the book to his robes. He seemed calm, compared to Samuel who obviously was anxious. Samuel wasn't THAT scared considering he faced one of the things like this in the laboratory, after all.

Speaking of the monsters in that laboratory—this necromorph carries a strong resemblance to them. Samuel noted in the back of his mind that he ought to tell the team about this.

"D-did that hold it off?" Samuel asks when Hosea reaches his side.

"Not for long," Hosea says. "I only bought us some time to plan."

And so he did. In the next following minutes, with the necromorph's continuous thras.h.i.+ng on the barrier, Hosea calmly proceeded to deliberate the strategy needed to take down the necromorph. The others nodded in agreement as Hosea elaborated their positions, and the plan. Samuel knew it could work, considering how composed all of them seemed to be on the uptake.

"And you, Samuel, will be with me." Hosea says.

The necromorph started to bang its fist and claws against the barrier faster and harder this time. In every pounding of its razor-sharp claws. .h.i.tting the invisible frame, unleashes the sound of a gla.s.s slowly being shattered to smithereens. The barrier was breaking.

"It's coming." Hosea murmurs, his eyes fixed to the necromorph deliberately breaching through the barrier.

"Now!" Hosea exclaims as he moves an arm forward as the barrier completely shattered.

The group charged to the necromorph as per Hosea's instructions. It was Vashti who unleashed a spell from her staff, directly hitting the undead's chest. The necromorph growled—and then proceeded to launch its large claw forward to Vashti.

"Hah!" Pelmon sliced through the necromorph's claw, and then Arletha—who was on top of the wall—released several shots from her arrow to the necromorph's chest and its vital areas.

The necromorph collapsed in a second after several slices from Pelmon's sword, who dismantled its claws and arms from its body.

Samuel's jaw gaped. This was achieved in a matter of seconds, and it was done without breaking a sweat. Yael didn't even move a budge, nor did he need to step in.

Samuel's eyes gleamed—this . . . is the group of the Red Alaris Guild!