Chapter 184

  “Harmony.” Bones turned her way, his tone firm. “Would you please finish him off? A silver-tipped arrow to the head should do the trick—we really can’t waste any more time.” He gestured toward Sorel, who bared his teeth in contempt, his fury mounting at Bones’ words. Harmony didn’t hesitate. She took a step forward, nocked an arrow, and released it in one smooth motion. The silver tip found its mark, burying deep into the werewolf’s skull. His body gave one final twitch before falling still.

  Bones exhaled, then turned his gaze toward the exit, deliberating.

  “Skully, Murdok, fetch the bodies outside. We can’t have them lying in plain view,” he ordered.

  Skully grabbed Sorel by his mangled ankles and began dragging him toward the entrance. The werewolf’s heavy body left streaks of blood in its wake, smearing the floor as he was hauled away. Before the two golems stepped out, Bones added, “Dump them in the undergrowth beside the building.”

  Now then…

  He muttered the last part to himself as he approached the metallic doors. Their surface bore deep claw marks of varying sizes, a clear sign of past struggles. And yet, despite the damage, the doors remained intact.

  They didn’t force their way in, Bones noted, running his fingers over the jagged grooves. That meant another way existed—one he intended to find.

  Shifting his focus to the doorframe, he began searching for a mechanism while also weighing the dangers that lay ahead. What awaited him beyond these doors? The thought lingered, sharpening his sense of caution. Splitting up to cover more angles crossed his mind, but the unknown dangers within made the decision uncertain.

  “There it is,” he murmured, fingers brushing against a small panel—a shade darker than the surrounding wall. The design was familiar. It resembled the access panel from the first facility, the one he had used to unlock the container holding the core. If this place followed the same principles…

  Bones pressed the panel. It gave way with a soft click, sinking slightly into the wall. A deep metallic groan followed. The doors trembled, then slid apart, vanishing into the walls with a series of heavy clunks.

  Immediately, he pressed his back against the nearby wall, motioning for Harmony to do the same. If anyone was waiting on the other side, they wouldn't be caught standing in the open.

  The golden light from outside spilled into the opening, illuminating a long corridor—only for it to be swallowed by darkness a few meters in.

  Bones waited for Skully and Murdok to return before sending them in first, Murdok taking the lead. Once inside, he switched from verbal to mental instructions, linking his mind with all three of his golems. A familiar strain tugged at his consciousness, but he pushed past it with ease.

  Bones vanished into the darkness of the long corridor, senses sharpened. Distant noises kept him on edge, each echo fueling the anticipation of something lunging from the shadows. But the sounds remained just that—distant. He slowed his pace and called Murdok back to his side while directing Skully and Harmony to move together. His decision to split the group this way was deliberate. Both he and Harmony had strong crowd control abilities, while Skully worked best in tandem with her, requiring little direction.

  Bones and Murdok edged along the left side of the corridor while the other two kept to the right. Ahead, the passage ended in a T-junction, dimly illuminated by a flickering mana crystal embedded in the ceiling.

  As they neared the split, Murdok stepped on something with a sickening squelch and nearly lost his balance. Only then did Bones register the grisly details scattered across the corridor—chunks of flesh, torn limbs, and what remained of unfortunate creatures.

  “Prowlers,” Bones murmured. “A lot of them, by the looks of it.”

  From the noises up ahead, it was clear the raiders weren’t done clearing the building.

  About two meters from the junction, Bones raised a hand, signaling a halt. Hurried footsteps echoed from around the bend. A figure darted into view—a raider, panting and wide-eyed. He stumbled, caught himself, and kept running, disappearing down the right corridor without so much as a glance in their direction.

  Bones' group remained still, processing the strange sight. Then, a Phantom Prowler burst from the left, its shadowy form gliding through the passage with unsettling grace. It followed the raider’s path without hesitation.

  Not five seconds later, a shrill scream rang out, followed by the chaotic clash of battle.

  More voices erupted, human shouts overpowering the prowler’s hissing cries. Then, silence—brief and eerie—before the human voices swelled again, growing louder.

  They’re coming this way.

  Bones weighed his options. He had two: retreat or press forward. The decision took less than a second. He hurriedly turned the bend, casting a final glance at the stairs on the right before vanishing into the left corridor with his golems in tow.

  The passage split again at another junction. This time, Bones took the right path, arriving at the threshold of a large hall. The doors had been forced open long ago, their warped frames barely clinging to rusted hinges. Inside, mana crystals spaced at intervals along the walls bathed the room in dim, uneven light, their once-steady glow flickering weakly, as if struggling to keep the darkness at bay.

  Decay had long since claimed the facility. A thick layer of dust smothered every surface, disturbed only by the faint tracks of creatures that had passed through over the years. Patches of fungi sprouted in the corners where moisture had seeped through the fractured stone, their spongy stalks swaying slightly in the still air. Moss clung to the walls in irregular patterns, feeding on the remnants of arcane energy that still lingered within the ruined structure. Vines, having forced their way through cracks in walls and collapsed sections of the ceiling, coiled like creeping tendrils across the floor, winding between rusted equipment and shattered glass. Their slow, unrelenting advance had reached the very heart of the room, curling around the legs of tables and slithering through the bars of long-abandoned cages.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Rows of metal tables lined the space, some still holding rusted tools and broken instruments dulled by time. Trolleys cluttered with broken glass and corroded measuring devices stood abandoned, their wheels seized with rust. The floor, once smooth stone, was now fractured and uneven, split apart by years of neglect. Faint traces of old blood, faded to near-invisibility, still clung to some surfaces, whispering of grim experiments conducted in ages past.

  But what truly caught his attention were the cages.

  They were stacked on top of each other, most of them torn open, their twisted bars riddled with the marks of something desperate to escape. Some bore circular holes burned clean through the metal, the edges blackened and warped. A few remained sealed, their interiors holding the shriveled remains of creatures that had perished long ago, their bones tangled with the roots that had crept inside.

  Bones took it all in swiftly, his focus split between assessing the room and tracking any signs of the raiders. He no longer heard their voices, but that didn’t mean they weren’t closing in.

  He moved through the hall, passing between rows of cages. The air was thick—not just with the scent of rust, but with the stale, lingering rot of something ancient, something that had been left to fester for decades. The weight of time pressed down on the place, settling into every crack and crevice. Even the silence felt heavy, as if the facility itself had become a tomb, holding secrets that no one was meant to uncover.

  Then he stopped.

  The second half of the hall was different. Tables, propped vertically against the walls, held bodies—or what remained of them. Some were horribly mutilated, others half-eaten, their flesh rotting in unnatural ways. It was clear they had been used for experiments. Bones had seen such sights before. This was a creature necropsy lab—a space where researchers examined, dissected, and analyzed corpses.

  He stepped closer to one of the bodies. It had withered beyond recognition, but there were traces—subtle hints that it might have once been a ghoul. Or had it simply deteriorated to the point where all distinction was lost?

  Beside the table, a trolley held shattered flasks and dried stains of unknown substances. Bones’ gaze flicked between the remnants of liquid and the corpses.

  How were these bodies preserved? The decay should have consumed them long ago. There were no signs of preservation formations. Was it the liquid? Something else?

  He stepped back, swiftly checking the other bodies, but found no clear answers.

  Time to move.

  At the far end of the lab, a set of doors waited. Bones pressed the panel beside them, and with a low groan, they opened.

  Beyond them, a corridor stretched ahead, sloping downward.

  Bones advanced, following the descent. The passage curved three times before the incline finally leveled out, revealing another junction ahead.

  That’s when he heard it.

  The unmistakable sound of gears turning within the walls. A deep, rhythmic clunk of metal shifting in the distance.

  Something had been activated.

  The facility roared to life with a deafening harmony of grinding gears and clanking metal. Still-functioning doors slammed shut with an echoing finality, sealing pathways as the entire structure trembled under the sudden surge of power. A deep, mechanical hum pulsed through the walls, vibrating in Bones' bones like the heartbeat of some ancient, slumbering beast now awakened. Steam hissed through unseen vents, shrill whistles piercing the din like the labored breaths of a dying machine.

  Then came the guardians.

  From concealed compartments in the walls, massive brass golems emerged, disturbed after centuries of slumber. Their hulking forms gleamed beneath the dim glow of flickering mana crystals. Their footsteps were slow but thunderous, each movement a deliberate show of power, the heavy clang of metal against stone bouncing off the corridor walls, alerting intruders to their presence. Their joints hissed as they moved, releasing bursts of steam in rhythmic exhalations. Eyes of dull red light flickered to life, scanning the passage with unyielding purpose—seek, engage, eliminate.

  Bones barely registered the distant clash of steel and flesh, the cries of battle drowned beneath the relentless march of machinery. But he knew a fight had begun. He edged along the corridor, keeping to the shadows, drawn by the faint shouts that managed to pierce through the cacophony.

  Turning a bend, he caught sight of them—two raiders, their bodies half-transformed into werewolves, locked in brutal combat against a golem. The towering construct moved with ponderous grace, its heavy brass limbs sweeping through the air with crushing force. The werewolves were fast, darting between its attacks, but every missed strike carved deep gouges into walls, each impact showcasing the sheer force behind the golem's blows.

  Bones remained still, observing. The golem was slow, methodical—but unrelenting. It was only a matter of time before one misstep sealed the werewolves’ fate.

  Before that happened—before the potential experience was wasted—Bones raised his staff. He turned to his golems, mouthed a silent "Go," and in an instant, Skully and Harmony shot forward, taking the lead. Murdok followed close behind, with Bones bringing up the rear.

  Their sudden appearance startled the werewolves, but it also drew the brass golem’s attention, its glowing eyes locking onto four new targets. Before Bones’ golems reached the fray, a skull projectile shot past them from behind, slamming into the golem’s chest. The explosion rocked the massive construct, forcing it to stagger backward. Skully and Harmony didn’t pause, closing the distance with ruthless precision—unlike the two werewolves, who stood frozen, still trying to process the sudden shift in battle.

  Bones had aimed for the brass golem first for a reason. Aside from wanting to secure the kills himself, he knew his control over bones was useless against a creature with no skeletal frame. He doubted Ethereal Chains would have much of an impact either.

  The golem recovered fast. In mere seconds, it had regained its footing, the explosion leaving little more than a smudge on its massive, brass-plated form.

  But those few seconds were all Skully and Harmony needed. They descended upon one of the werewolves, moving in perfect sync, striking with deadly efficiency. A swift, coordinated assault—and just like that, the werewolf fell.

  The second barely had time to react before Ethereal Chains wrapped around its limbs, biting deep into flesh as it struggled. Murdok, ever the brute force, swung his greatsword in a wide arc. The werewolf barely managed to snap its head back, the blade whistling past by a hair’s breadth—but Murdok didn’t stop. The momentum carried him through, fluid and relentless. He turned, re-adjusted, and swung again.

  This time, the werewolf twisted its body, managing to snap one of the chains in the process—at the cost of a deep, bleeding gash across its chest. Muscles tensed. It snarled—

  Then a massive brass fist came crashing down, caving its skull in with a sickening crunch.