The Third Return of the Necrotic Magic Swordsman

The Mist Zone was drowned in pale fog. Thick mana clouds rolled endlessly, turning the air into a ghostly haze where sight itself became uncertain.

A lone figure walked through it, steady and silent.

Evan Windstone.

He’d leapt straight into the mist before Arven could even finish his lecture—and now, that lecture was echoing right inside his head.

”You really are reckless to your core,” Arven’s voice rumbled, carrying a tone of eternal disapproval.

”Jumping into unknown mist without preparation—what were you thinking? What if that had been a trap? Then I’d be stuck looking for another host again. Hah, and my last intelligent one died in an uncharted plane… I really have the worst luck.”

Evan kept walking.

He used a summoned bone pole as a guide, planting it ahead like a blind man’s staff to keep his path straight and avoid circling in the fog.

Arven, of course, didn’t stop talking.

”This place holds multiple-layered laws meant to disorient and imprison. You just strolled right in. I swear, sometimes I wonder if you even—”

”Arven,” Evan muttered under his breath, ”I’ve apologised sixteen times already. I’ll make it seventeen—sorry, alright? Sorry. Now, can we get through this, oh great Eye of the Soul Ruler?”

The flattering tone worked—barely.

Arven huffed. ”Hmph. Fine. Just follow my lead this time. Don’t make rash moves, and you might survive. Also…” His voice dropped low, too faint to catch. ”You’re not completely hopeless.”

Evan frowned. ”Did you say something?”

”No. Now crouch down when I say so. Keep walking.”

Minutes passed. The fog felt endless.

Then Arven’s voice boomed sharply—”Stop! Down! As low as you can!”

Evan immediately threw himself flat on the ground, peering around for threats. ”What is it? A monster?”

”No, it’s a trap. And why are you lying down like a corpse? I said duck, not die.”

Evan gave an awkward laugh and shifted into a crouch. ”So what kind of trap?”

”A deadly one,” Arven murmured. ”You can’t see it, but I can. Even someone at the peak of this realm would die instantly.”

Evan’s gaze darkened. ”Then how did Sylven get through here? If he survived, that means—”

”Stop assuming,” Arven cut in. ”I’ve seen other traps nearby, some already destroyed by sword patterns. Someone broke through intentionally—clean strikes. That’s Sylven’s doing.”

Evan nodded slowly. ”So he made it in… and left them untouched afterwards. Typical. Why clear the path for others when he could make this place his advantage?”

”Exactly,” Arven agreed. ”The outer traps are broken, but the inner ones remain. Either he spared them to reduce competition or to guard something deeper.”

Evan exhaled quietly. ”Then we move faster. If the treasure’s still here, I’m not letting him claim it.”

With Arven’s guidance, he passed through more than fifty intricate traps—each deadlier than the last. Pressure plates, mana distortions, silent barriers… all unseen by human eyes.

Curiosity got the better of him when they reached the final one.

”Let’s see how deadly this really is,” he muttered.

He summoned a skeleton warrior, commanding it forward. The summon trembled but obeyed, stepping into the marked range.

The air whistled—then erupted.

A storm of stone-like shards launched from every direction, shredding the skeleton into unrecognisable dust. Not broken.

Destroyed.

Evan froze. Even the bones couldn’t reform.

”Well,” he muttered, ”guess I’ll take your word for it from now on.”

”Good choice,” Arven replied dryly.

When the last trap was cleared, Evan stepped into a vast clearing—the heart of the Mist Zone.

Here, the fog thinned completely. The air was still. The sky above was clear and bright, as though this space rejected the cursed mist around it.

A sacred calm within a forsaken world.

At the center stood a levitating stone monolith, suspended above a crystalline altar that pulsed with mana so dense it distorted the air.

Evan approached carefully, every sense on alert.

The moment he crossed ten meters, his Nexus System flickered to life—then spiralled out of control.

Dozens of translucent panels burst open in front of him, blocking his vision. He tried to swipe them away, but they wouldn’t move.

Each one flashed the same message: Danger. Death. Leave.

Then a final notification appeared.

[ Host’s connection with the system has been temporarily suspended.]

[All system functions are offline.]

[Host has entered an unidentified plane.

Immediate evacuation is advised.]

[The plane is classified as extremely dangerous.]

Evan’s brow furrowed.

’Offline? In here? There’s no living thing around except me.’

He smirked faintly. ”Maybe the system’s acting up. Guess it’s as nervous as Arven.”

Ignoring the warnings, he stepped forward—toward the waiting monolith.

The air around the monolith began to hum.

A low vibration pulsed through the mist, and suddenly—

Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!

Lines of glowing text flared before Evan’s eyes as his Omni System activated on its own.

The next line froze him.

Evan’s eyes narrowed. ”Ruler candidate?”

Before he could process it, another message flashed.

The ground began to shake.

The floating stone monolith trembled violently, veins of red and black light crawling across its surface until it blazed like molten crystal.

The once-clear sky shifted—bleeding crimson—while the surrounding mist deepened into a suffocating shade of scarlet.

It felt as though the world itself was mutating around him.

Evan’s heart pounded.

He could feel presences—ancient, vast, and watching—sliding past him in flashes that made his skin crawl.

’What’s happening? Am I being transported somewhere else? Arven… can you hear me?’

Silence.

The voice that never stopped talking was suddenly gone.

Evan’s pulse quickened. The oppressive energy pressing on his soul made even his Demigod-tier instincts flare in panic. He could feel death circling—slow, deliberate, patient.

Then the entire plane convulsed.

The ground buckled beneath his feet, throwing him off balance. The air screamed, twisting with crimson lightning before it all stopped—abruptly.

A deep thud echoed through the mist like the impact of worlds colliding.

When the tremors finally ceased, Evan looked around. The pale fog was gone.

In its place was a red haze heavy with the stench of blood and mana so thick it clung to his skin.

”Arven?” he called again, but there was still no answer.

He clenched his fists, forcing his mind to focus. ”Fine. If this is another realm… then I’ll face it head-on.”

He stepped toward the mist.

’If I’m bound to die, so be it.

Forgive me… Father, Mother, Friends, ....Nelys.’

Light exploded around him.

When his vision cleared, the world had changed.

The Mist Zone was gone.

He stood in a vast land connected to something far larger.

The monolith still stood before him—but no longer stone. It had transformed into a crimson crystal obelisk, radiating black ripples of power.

The grassy field was replaced by polished onyx tiles, each etched with runes that pulsed faintly under his feet.

Evan’s breath caught. The sky above was pitch black—devoid of stars, clouds, or even light. Just an endless void stretching in every direction.

And then realisation hit.

The flickering presence.

The silence from Arven.

The suffocating energy that made even his soul tremble.

He summoned the system panels again and re-read the last message carefully.

His stomach dropped.

’No way… Am I actually inside the—’

Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!

Evan froze, the words sinking in like cold iron.

The deepest layer of the ...

—To Be Continued—

What is going to happen now? Is Evan finished? Where is he right now? Will he be able to get away safely, or is his fate sealed today? 

There are many questions, but the answers cannot be revealed yet. Add this to your library to find out what happens next.