A Necromancer's Guide to Clearing a Game Like Tower

Chapter 121: Chapter 121: Mother, Answer Me

The Dark Knight didn’t give them the second they needed.

Ronan was still getting off his knee. Maeve’s hands were still coming back up. Cillian was shaking the strain out of his arms, and Finn was three steps from the broken cross with his axe lowered and his breath not back yet.

She crossed the square at him in two strides.

”Finn—” Ronan started.

Finn got the axe up. The burning sword came down through the top corner of his guard, sheared past the haft, and opened him from ribs to hip.

SHRRK.

[DARK KNIGHT OF THE SUCCUBUS CROSS — BURNING CLEAVE] [FINN HALE — HP: 1,620/2,340 → 980/2,340] [BURNING CORRUPTION DETECTED]

Finn went down to one knee with his hand pressed to his side and fire crawling at the edges of the wound — not flame exactly, the corruption burning its way inward along the cut.

Maeve’s thread hit him before it got past the first rib.

[RADIANT THREAD REINFORCED] [FINN HALE — BURNING CORRUPTION SLOWED] [MAEVE CALLAHAN — MANA: 240/1,460 → 170/1,460]

”That’s most of what I have left,” she said. ”So stop getting cut.”

Finn laughed once through his teeth, which came out as a cough, and got back up.

[RaidStatsGuy]: No regen — but her damage output just went UP.

[TRBWatcher]: Desperation phase. She’s not protecting anything anymore.

[Anonymous donated €20,000]: Finn is bleeding BAD.

James pulled the python in tight beside him and read the square.

She was faster now. Looser. The fight before the cross broke had been measured, every swing placed, every angle chosen. This wasn’t that. The thing in the black armor wasn’t defending a shrine anymore.

It was trying to take them with it.

Ronan got back to the front before she could line up on Finn again.

His shield arm was shaking. The shield itself had two dents deep enough to put a fist in and a crack running off the rim. He raised it anyway and stepped into her path, and she hit it like she meant to come out the other side of him.

BOOM.

[DARK KNIGHT OF THE SUCCUBUS CROSS — EXECUTION STRIKE] [RONAN CLEARY — HP: 880/2,600 → 310/2,600] [SHIELD DURABILITY: CRITICAL]

His back foot slid half a meter. His front knee buckled and caught. For one second the entire square narrowed down to whether Ronan Cleary stayed upright, and Maeve threw her hand out with almost nothing behind it.

The circlet answered for her.

[APOSTLE’S RADIANT CIRCLET RESPONDING] [EMERGENCY PURIFY PULSE ACTIVATED] [RONAN CLEARY — HP: 310/2,600 → 690/2,600] [CORRUPTION BUILDUP REDUCED]

Pale-gold light wrapped him, and the shaking in his arm settled enough to lock the shield back into place.

Ronan didn’t thank anyone. He spat into the mud, reset his feet, and said, ”She’s bleeding. Hit her while I’ve still got a shield.”

They hit her.

Cillian went back to the shoulder — the crack from the first fight, the one the shrine had sealed and the broken cross had let reopen. His bolt landed and this time the damage stayed. The split widened a finger’s width and didn’t close.

[CILLIAN WARD — LIGHTNING IMPACT] [DARK KNIGHT ARMOR DAMAGED]

”It’s holding!” he called. ”The damage is holding!”

Finn came in off Ronan’s next block and put his axe into the same shoulder.

THUNK.

[FINN HALE — AXE STRIKE] [DARK KNIGHT ARMOR BREACHED]

James worked the joints. Not the plates — the seams between them, the places where black metal met black metal, firing Necro Blast into the elbow, the hip, the gap under the arm whenever her swing exposed it.

[NECRO BLAST ACTIVATED] [MANA: 1,360/1,420 → 1,330/1,420] [DARK KNIGHT OF THE SUCCUBUS CROSS — HP REDUCED]

Maeve marked what she could with hands that were visibly shaking now, the brand coming out thinner each time.

[GuildScout_EU]: Damage is STAYING. Look at the shoulder.

[RaidStatsGuy]: Cross destruction confirmed working. Zero regeneration.

[IronRingLive]: They can actually kill this thing.

[Anonymous donated €50,000]: FINISH HER.

But she made them pay for every wound.

A backhand from the sword’s hilt caught Finn mid-recovery and sent him skidding three meters through the mud. A shoulder charge slammed Ronan’s shield into Ronan’s own chest hard enough that James heard the air leave him. Cillian held a charge half a second too long going for a bigger hit, and a burst off the burning blade caught him side-on and threw him into one of the broken shrine stones.

WHAM.

He got up. Slowly. His left sleeve was scorched through.

They were winning. James could see it in the black blood running from her joints, in the way her swings were starting to drag at the end. But they were winning the way you win a fire — by losing slower than it burns.

”Snake,” James said.

The python moved.

It was hurt — coil-wounds from the boss, hook-wounds from the shrine, almost half its health gone — but it crossed the square low and fast and hit the Dark Knight’s leg while her sword was high on Ronan’s shield. The fangs went into the knee joint and the body whipped around her leg and pulled.

[ABYSSAL VENOM PYTHON — VENOM STRIKE] [VENOM EFFECT: PARTIALLY RESISTED] [DARK KNIGHT MOVEMENT REDUCED]

Her balance broke off-center. Not falling. Dragging. Every step she took now cost her a fight with the coil around her leg.

She brought the burning sword down on the snake’s back. Once. Twice.

[CONTRACTED UNDEAD DAMAGED] [ABYSSAL VENOM PYTHON — HP: 3,610/9,500 → 2,480/9,500]

James felt both cuts land behind his eyes — the contract feeding the damage back as cold pressure — and he held the command anyway. The snake didn’t release. This was the trade: she could spend her swings on the python, or she could spend them on the team. Not both.

”Now!” he called. ”While she’s anchored!”

Maeve branded the chest. Cillian hit it. Finn followed. Ronan stepped in and bashed the shield’s broken face into her sword arm to throw off the counter.

The armor across her chest cracked wider with a sound like ice on a lake.

And the helm split.

Not all the way. A fracture, hairline, running from the visor’s edge up over the crown — and through it, for the first time since the head dissolved into the neck, came a voice.

The Saintess’s voice.

Not the warm one from the shrine steps. Not the soft one that had called men in by name through the dark. This one was small.

”Mother.”

It almost vanished under the fight. James caught it. He saw Maeve’s head turn a fraction, so she’d caught it too.

Finn drove his axe into the chest crack, and the voice came again, louder.

”Mother.”

It wasn’t a threat.

It was panic.

The Dark Knight swung wild after it — no angle, no plan, a full-body sweep that drove Ronan back and clipped Finn’s guard and cut a line across his shoulder — and James understood that she wasn’t fighting them anymore. Not really.

She was buying time for something to come.

[TRBWatcher]: She’s calling something. Listen to the audio.

[RaidStatsGuy]: Boss behavior completely changed after cross destruction.

[GuildScout_EU]: That’s not scripted aggression. That’s desperation.

[Anonymous donated €30,000]: KILL IT BEFORE SOMETHING ANSWERS.

She planted her feet in the middle of the square, raised the burning sword over her head, and the red-black fire on it climbed.

”Mother, answer me.”

The words went up past the dead shrine, past the broken cross, into the red sky.

Nothing answered.

The fire on the sword guttered — and then surged, and she came apart at whatever had been holding her together.

She went through them.

Not around Ronan. Through him. The sword hit the shield square and the shield finally gave, the frame cracking down the middle, the face shearing loose, and Ronan took the rest of the blow on the armor underneath and went sideways into the mud.

[RONAN CLEARY — SHIELD DURABILITY: 0] [SHIELD BROKEN]

She turned through the swing into Finn and opened his shoulder before he finished raising the axe.

[FINN HALE — HP: 980/2,340 → 620/2,340]

Cillian fired everything he had left into her back and his own lightning bit him for it, the overdrawn charge arcing back down his arm and burning a stripe to the elbow. He made a sound through his teeth and didn’t go down.

[CILLIAN WARD — MANA STRAIN DETECTED]

Her shoulder caught Maeve’s field on the turn and the field buckled, and Maeve sat down hard in the mud with the circlet flickering.

[MAEVE CALLAHAN — FIELD DISRUPTED]

And a thread of burning corruption came off the sword’s wake, snaked across the square, and went for James’s throat.

He drew his sword and cut it out of the air a hand’s width from his neck.

[JAMES GANNER — CORRUPTION THREAD SEVERED]

For a second the square was bodies and mud and fire, and the Dark Knight stood in the middle of all of it, bleeding black from six wounds, still up.

Maeve dragged herself to one knee, put both hands flat to the ground, and spent almost everything she had left in one pulse.

[RADIANT PULSE ACTIVATED] [PARTY STABILIZATION EFFECT APPLIED] [MAEVE CALLAHAN — MANA: 170/1,460 → 35/1,460]

The light rolled over all of them. Wounds didn’t close, but the bleeding slowed, the corruption stopped climbing, and everyone who was down got back up.

”That’s the last one,” Maeve said. Her voice had gone thin. ”Whatever happens next, nobody gets to make a mistake.”

James watched the Dark Knight instead of answering.

She had pulled back to the center of the square, sword dragging, and as Finn regained his feet she raised her head and called again — ”Mother” — and there it was.

The opening.

Every time the word left her, her guard sagged. The sword arm dipped. The cracked helm tilted up toward the sky for half a second, and for that half second she was not watching any of them. He’d seen it on the last three calls. It wasn’t grief making her sloppy. The cross was gone, so she was reaching for the source directly — casting a connection that no longer had anywhere to land — and the reach cost her everything else while she made it.

A failed call. Every single time.

”Listen,” James said, low, to all of them. ”She calls, she opens. Next one, we take it. Everything on the chest.”

”With what shield?” Ronan said. He was standing over the wreck of it.

”With you anyway.”

Ronan picked up the broken frame — half a shield, edges sheared — and set himself in front of Maeve regardless. Finn moved up beside him instead of out wide, the two of them making one line now. Cillian gathered a charge with his burned arm hanging and the good one raised. Maeve lifted her hand and held the last thin brand ready over her palm.

James brought the python in low, coiled, watching the boss’s legs.

The Dark Knight straightened. The fire climbed the blade again. The split helm turned up toward the empty red sky and she screamed it this time, the word tearing out through the crack in the metal —

”MOTHER!”

— and the guard dropped.

”Now.”

The python hit her leg and hauled sideways. Ronan slammed what was left of his shield into her sword arm. Finn drove the axe two-handed into the cracked chest plate. Cillian’s overcharged bolt took her full in the broken helm.

James put a Necro Blast into the open seam where the chest had split, straight through into whatever was under the armor.

[DARK KNIGHT OF THE SUCCUBUS CROSS — ARMOR BREACHED] [WEAK POINT EXPOSED] [CILLIAN WARD — OVERCHARGED LIGHTNING IMPACT] [FINN HALE — AXE STRIKE] [NECRO BLAST ACTIVATED] [MANA: 1,330/1,420 → 1,300/1,420] [DARK KNIGHT OF THE SUCCUBUS CROSS — CRITICAL DAMAGE]

The Dark Knight dropped to one knee in the mud.

She didn’t fall further than that.

The armor across her chest hung open. Black blood ran out through the joints of it and pooled under her knee. The fire on the sword stuttered, dimming and catching, dimming and catching, like a pulse losing its rhythm. The crack in the helm had spread, and behind it, in the gap, something pale moved — a sliver of a face.

Nobody charged in.

Ronan stood with half a shield. Finn’s arm was red to the wrist. Cillian’s lightning flickered around one working hand. Maeve was upright by an act of will, the circlet dim above eyes that had gone hollow with mana drain. Beside James, the python coiled low, torn along its length, hood still spread.

On the stream, the comments were still moving, but slower. Quieter. A million people watching a boss die and hearing what it was saying while it died.

The Dark Knight reached out with her free hand — not toward any of them.

Toward the shrine. Toward the split, dead cross hanging off its broken base.

”Mother,” she said.

It didn’t sound like a prayer anymore. It didn’t sound like a command.

It sounded like a child begging not to be left.

Then her hand closed on the empty air, and came back to the sword.

The Dark Knight dragged her sword through the mud and raised the broken helm toward the red sky.

”Mother,” she whispered.

No answer came.

And Team Zero understood that the next exchange would end it.