《The Healer Who Cleared The Raid》 My Goal! The world says healers can¡¯t fight. They say we¡¯re meant to support others, stay in the back, and keep the real fighters alive. We¡¯re weak. Useless alone. A healer challenging the Abyssal Spire? Impossible. But I don¡¯t care what the world says. Because I set a goal to clear the Spire and stand at the top. Even if no one believes in me. Even if the entire world laughs at me. I¡¯ll prove them all wrong. The Abyssal Spire. A 100-floor dungeon that has never been conquered. The deepest anyone has ever gone was floor 89, and that record was set by Ragnar the Crimson Fang, the greatest warrior in history. Countless adventurers have entered the Spire, and most never returned. Those who did spoke of monstrous creatures, deadly traps, and bosses that only the strongest could face. It¡¯s a place that demands power, skill, and overwhelming strength.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. And here I am. A healer. Alone. People watching probably think I¡¯m insane. I can hear the whispers from the crowd behind me. "A healer? Is she joking?" "She won¡¯t even survive the first floor." "She¡¯s just going to waste her life." I ignore them. This isn¡¯t for them. This is my dream. Ever since I was a kid, I¡¯ve been obsessed with the Spire. I studied every adventurer¡¯s log, memorized every boss encounter, and trained every single day. While other healers focused on supporting their teams, I refused to be dependent on anyone. I wanted to stand on my own. I wanted to prove that I could survive. Because I had no intention of being just a healer. I was going to clear the Raid. The entrance to the Spire looms before me, a set of massive black gates covered in ancient runes. The moment I step through, the challenge begins. I take a deep breath, adjusting the straps of my corset-style leather armor. My short, ash-blonde hair sways slightly under the torchlight, and my crimson-red eyes burn with determination. In my hand, I grip my ornate staff, its crimson gemstone glowing faintly, pulsing in rhythm with my heartbeat. My heart pounds. Not from fear. But from excitement. I¡¯m finally here. The start of my journey. Step. The gates rumble open. A cold, dark wind brushes against my skin. I step forward, leaving the doubters and the outside world behind. I enter the Spire. And the Raid begins. Floor 1: First threat! The first floor of the Abyssal Spire reveals itself as a vast, circular arena. Three towering iron gates stand at equal distances around the edge, their surfaces rusted with age and covered in deep claw marks. I step forward, gripping my staff tightly. The moment my boot touches the center of the arena, the entrance behind me slams shut with a deafening THUD. The torches ignite one by one, casting flickering light over the arena¡¯s stone walls. The sudden glow makes the long, jagged shadows stretch like claws reaching toward me. Then I hear it. Chains rattling. A low, mechanical groan as the heavy gates begin to rise. I swallow hard, my heart pounding. From the darkness beyond the gates, three small figures emerge. Goblins. Green-skinned, hunched, barely reaching my waist. They carry crude daggers and wooden clubs, their sharp yellow teeth flashing as they hiss at me. "Khew! Khaa!" ¡­I don¡¯t know what kind of language that is, but it sounds ridiculous. The problem isn¡¯t their battle cries, though. The problem is¡­ I have never actually fought a real opponent before. My crimson eyes widen as the goblins let out shrieks and charge.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. Panic surges through me. My mind blanks. My carefully thought-out battle plans? Gone. Years of studying adventurer logs? Useless. I do what any logical person would do in this situation. I turn around and start running for my life. ¡°Aaaaagh! Go away, you ugly green goblins!¡± I scream, dashing across the arena. They chase after me, snarling. No, no, no, it¡¯s not supposed to be like this! This is only the first floor! I¡¯m supposed to be an unstoppable, rule-breaking healer! Not¡­ whatever this is! I force myself to stop and spin around, raising my staff in what I hope looks like a battle stance. ¡°Come at me!¡± I shout. The goblins don¡¯t even hesitate. They lunge. That¡¯s when I remember¡ª ¡­I don¡¯t have any combat spells. Oh. Oh no. In a blind panic, I swing my staff with all my strength. WHACK! The first goblin takes the hit straight to the forehead. Its head snaps back, and it stumbles, dazed. It worked?! I don¡¯t have time to process my accidental success before the second goblin lunges. On pure reflex, I swing again. BONK! The goblin reels backward, dropping its club. I stare at my staff. Then at the goblins. Then back at my staff. A thought occurs to me. I can¡¯t use offensive magic. I don¡¯t have a sword. ¡­But I do have a very sturdy staff. ¡°Alright, you little gremlins,¡± I mutter, gripping my weapon tighter. ¡°You asked for this.¡± The goblins hesitate. Maybe they sense what¡¯s coming. I launch myself at them. "DIE! DIE!¡± I yell, swinging my staff like an old granny. WHACK! WHACK! THWACK! One goblin goes flying. The other drops to the ground, twitching. The last one tries to retreat, but I kick it in the stomach. It crumples with a pathetic wheeze. Silence. I pant, hands on my knees, surveying the aftermath. Three unconscious goblins. One slightly bent staff. Zero dignity. ¡°¡­That was only the first floor,¡± I mutter, wiping the sweat from my forehead. I plop down on the ground, exhausted. "Hah¡­ good thing they were low-rank goblins. So stupid¡­¡± I mumble to myself. I exhale, finally catching my breath. Alright. That was just the beginning. I glance at the next gate. It looms over me, waiting. I sigh. Only 99 floors to go. Floor 2: The Brute! I glance at the massive gate ahead, then at the fallen goblins around me. Their weapons are scattered across the stone floor, some broken, some still intact. Thinking for a moment, I crouch next to one of the goblins and grab its wooden club. I lift it with both hands and give it a test swing. "It¡¯s so heavy!" I nearly dropped it on my foot. "How do these little gremlins even use this?" Shaking my head, I toss the club aside. No way I¡¯m fighting with something that unwieldy. Instead, I pick up one of their daggers. It¡¯s small, sharp, and surprisingly well-balanced. I swing it a few times, testing the grip. Much better. Sliding the dagger into the side of my corset, I turn toward the large gate ahead. Taking a deep breath, I step forward and follow the circular staircase leading up. The stone steps are cracked and uneven, worn down by the countless adventurers who have passed through before me. Finally, I reached the second floor. The room looks almost the same as the first¡ªstone walls, torches flickering against the damp air¡ªbut this time, there is only *one* gate in front of me. I exhale slowly, a mix of excitement and nervousness swelling in my chest. The first floor was a mess, but I survived. Now, I have a weapon, and I won¡¯t be caught off guard. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. I take another step. The iron gate groans as it begins to rise. A deep, rumbling growl fills the room. Then he steps out. A Brute Goblin. My breath catches. He¡¯s massive, at least twice my height, with thick, muscular arms covered in scars. Unlike the smaller goblins, he carries no weapon. He doesn¡¯t *need* one. His fists alone could smash through solid stone. I glance back at the staircase, but before I can react, the entrance behind me slams shut. No escape. Brute Goblins are one of the strongest goblin species ever recorded. They don¡¯t rely on intelligence, only overwhelming power. The kind of power that could rip me in half. And this is only the second floor. I tighten my grip on the dagger. The Brute Goblin lets out a roar and charges straight at me. His speed is terrifying, his giant fists raised, ready to crush me. I barely manage to dodge as his punch slams into the ground, sending cracks through the stone. Without thinking, I slash at his arm with my dagger. The blade sinks in slightly, drawing green blood, but the goblin barely flinches. I look up. His eyes burn with rage. He swings again, and this time, I¡¯m not fast enough. His fist collides with my side, and I¡¯m sent flying. My back crashes against the stone wall, knocking the air from my lungs. Pain shoots through me. Before I can recover, he¡¯s already charging again. I lift my staff, forcing my body to move. "By light and life, flesh restore, mend the wound, let pain be no more!" A warm glow surrounds me, healing my injuries just as the Brute Goblin¡¯s fist comes crashing down. I push off the wall at the last second, flipping onto his massive arm. Keeping my balance, I sprint up toward his face. With a sharp breath, I jump and drive the back of my staff straight into his eye. Green blood spurts out as he roars in agony. I don¡¯t stop. Yanking my dagger from his arm, I drop down and stab deep into his foot. He lifts his leg in pain, giving me the perfect opening. I dash forward and strike his other leg. His balance wavers. With a final, earth-shaking crash, he collapses to the ground. I waste no time. Climbing onto his fallen body, I grip my dagger tightly and slash across his throat. Silence fills the room. His body twitches once, then goes still. I stumble back, panting. Even with healing magic, my body aches from the hits I took. I sit down on the cold stone floor, catching my breath. This was only the second floor. I¡¯m going to need a break. My reason to fight! I lay flat on my back next to a torch, letting its warmth chase away the lingering chill. The flickering fire casts moving shadows across the stone ceiling, dancing in rhythm with the soft crackling of the flames. I exhale, watching the breath leave my lips in the cold air. "My life was a total mess, huh?" I say jokingly to myself. Memories drift back, pulling me into the past. --- Years ago. "Elysia! Elysia!" I hear my mother calling my name, but I press myself deeper into the bushes, holding back a giggle. She turns away for just a second¡ª I dash out and tackle her from behind. "Got you!" She stumbles slightly, then sighs, crossing her arms in fake annoyance. But there¡¯s warmth in her eyes, the kind that only a mother can have. "Heh, yes, you got me¡­" She ruffles my hair before pointing toward our small house. "Now come on, dinner is ready."Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. We sit at the tiny wooden table, a single candle flickering between us. "Ugh, potatoes again?" I whine, staring at my plate. Mashed potatoes. Again. Most people avoid them because they¡¯re considered poor food, but we don¡¯t have much of a choice. We¡¯re broke. Still, I dig in. I live with my mother. She¡¯s a doctor¡ªone of the few that don¡¯t work for raiding parties. And my dad? I never met him. In this world, survival isn¡¯t a given. Everything revolves around raids¡ªmassive, dangerous dungeon explorations meant to keep the world safe. The government barely provides for civilians, and if you don¡¯t contribute to raids, you either starve or get killed by monsters. There¡¯s a saying. Fight or die. It wasn¡¯t just words. It was reality. And that¡¯s how I started raiding at a young age. At first, I only healed the wounded¡ªwarriors, tanks, frontliners. I wasn¡¯t strong, and to be honest, I was barely useful most of the time. But at least they paid me enough to keep food on our table. Day after day, I trained as a healer. I followed every lesson, memorized every spell, learned every technique. But I hated it. I didn¡¯t want to spend my life hiding behind others. I didn¡¯t want to be protected. So, I started training by myself. At first, people laughed. A healer training to fight? Swinging a staff like a sword? Dodging, running, practicing combat moves? They thought I was an idiot. "A kid looking for an early grave." "A wannabe fighter with no real talent." A healer¡¯s job was to support others. That was the rule. But I refused to accept it. I refused to be useless. I had two motivations. The Abyssal Spire, my life¡¯s goal. If I could clear even half the floors, I¡¯d earn enough money to support my mother for life. But if I cleared all one hundred, I¡¯d become a legend. The first healer to prove the impossible. Both reasons burned inside me, pushing me forward. --- The memory fades. I blink and sit up, rubbing my eyes. The warmth of the torch is comforting, but I can¡¯t rest forever. My body aches, my staff is slightly cracked, and my wounds still sting despite my healing magic. But none of that matters. Because now¡­ It¡¯s time. I stand up, dust myself off, and tighten my grip on my dagger. Then, without hesitation, I walk toward the next floor. Floor 3: The Corridor! As I step through the next gate, my heart pounds with anticipation. The puzzles. Out of everything in the Spire, puzzles are what I studied the most. Monsters and traps are dangerous, but puzzles? They¡¯re unpredictable. Each one is a test of wit, demanding intelligence, quick thinking, and sometimes a bit of luck. This room feels different from the others. The walls press in close, the space tight and claustrophobic. A single corridor stretches ahead, leading to a door at the far end. No turns. No branching paths. Just a straight shot forward. But I know better than to think it¡¯s that simple. I pull out my notebook, flipping through the pages filled with notes and sketches. My eyes scan over everything I¡¯ve recorded. Symbols on the ground. Small holes in the walls. I¡¯ve studied hundreds of puzzles, but nothing about this one looks familiar. "Hmm¡­ probably a trap corridor," I mutter under my breath, skimming through my notes again. Lever puzzle? No. Star puzzle? No. Music puzzle? No. None of them match. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. That doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯ll stop. I tuck my notebook away and crouch, grabbing a small rock from the floor. If I don¡¯t know the puzzle, I¡¯ll have to test it myself. With a flick of my wrist, I toss the rock forward. The moment it touches the ground, the symbols light up in a deep crimson glow. Not good. A sharp click echoes through the corridor, and suddenly, dozens of thin spikes shoot out from the holes in the walls, stabbing across the path. The rock is instantly shredded into dust. I take a slow breath. At least I didn¡¯t walk into that blindly. Stepping closer, I examine the glowing symbols. They pulse in a pattern, shifting from one symbol to another. The timing isn¡¯t random. It¡¯s a sequence. A code. So that¡¯s the puzzle. I have to step on the correct symbols while avoiding the wrong ones. I watch for a few moments, memorizing the order. Then, I take my first step forward. The moment my foot lands, another set of symbols light up. My body tenses, ready to jump back, but the spikes don¡¯t come. I exhale. Safe. One step down. A dozen more to go. Slowly, carefully, I move forward, matching my steps to the pattern. One wrong move could be the end, but I stay focused. Five steps. Ten. Fifteen. Almost there. The exit is just ahead. Then, the pattern changes. My next step should be safe, but the moment I press my foot down, the ground trembles. The symbols all flash red. I made a mistake. The walls groan as a new mechanism activates. A deep clunk vibrates through the air, and suddenly, the entire ceiling starts to descend. No time. I break into a sprint, dodging left and right as spikes shoot out, barely missing me. The ceiling is dropping faster than I expected. Too fast. My lungs burn, my heart pounds, but I push forward. The exit is right there. Just a few more feet¡ª A spike fires straight toward my chest. I don¡¯t have time to dodge. At the last second, I throw myself forward, hitting the ground hard as the spike grazes past my shoulder. Pain flares through me, but I don¡¯t stop. I roll, push off the ground, and lunge for the door. The moment I cross the threshold, the ceiling slams down behind me with a deafening crash. Dust and debris scatter across the floor. For a few seconds, I just lie there, breathing hard. That was too close. Slowly, I push myself up, wincing at the sting in my shoulder. Nothing serious. I¡¯ll heal it later. The room ahead is quiet. Another set of massive black doors stand before me, waiting. I made it. I brush the dust off my corset and straighten up. No time to rest. Without hesitation, I step forward. The next floor awaits. Floor 4: Greed... As I walk toward the next floor, I lift my staff and speak firmly. "Purify and Restore!" A soft glow surrounds me, soothing my aches and sealing my wounds. Much better. This time, there are no stone stairs. Instead, a simple wooden door stands in front of me. It¡¯s different from the heavy gates I passed before. I grab the handle and push it open slowly. Inside, the room is empty except for one thing. A chest. "Whoa! Finally, some loot!" I grin and walk toward it, excitement buzzing in my veins. The Spire is full of treasures, but I know better than to rush in blindly. My notes warned about cursed weapons, poison traps, and even mimics disguised as chests. But I need better gear. I need to get stronger. I hesitate for just a moment before flipping open the chest. Inside, a single scroll rests on a bed of dark velvet. My fingers brush over the leather binding, carefully undoing the strap. As I unroll it, my eyes widen. A flame symbol. "A fire spell!" I gasp, barely containing my excitement. "Yes! Yes! Finally, something useful! What is it? Fireball? Flamestrike?"Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. I eagerly read the inscription, tracing each rune with my finger. The words pulse with magic as I speak them aloud. "Embers hidden, flames await! Ignite upon trespass, burn their fate! Ignis Vinculum!" The symbols glow, rising from the parchment before slamming into my chest. Heat flares through me as the knowledge of the spell etches itself into my mind. I clench my fists, feeling the new power humming beneath my skin. "Ignis Vinculum, huh? Hope it¡¯s a good one." I turn my attention to another wooden door behind the chest. My excitement hasn¡¯t faded. I can¡¯t wait to test this out. Pushing the door open, I step onto the new floor. The air changes immediately. The scent of aged wood fills my lungs, but something else lingers beneath it. Something wild. Claw marks scar the wooden walls and floor. Deep gouges, some still fresh. Then, a low growl rumbles through the room. A massive iron gate at the far end creaks open, and a giant gray wolf steps forward. Scars crisscross its thick fur, and its yellow eyes lock onto me with predatory focus. A boss. I smile, raising my hands with confidence. "Come at me, you big dog!" The wolf snarls, muscles coiling. I brace myself, channeling the spell. This is my chance to see its power. "IGNIS VINCU¡ª" I stop. My eyes flick around the room. The walls. The ceiling. The floor. All wood. A fire spell here would burn everything¡ªincluding me. Too late. The wolf lunges. I barely raise my staff in time before its massive paw crashes down. Claws like blades carve through the wood, slicing clean through my weapon. The red gemstone at its center shatters, the pieces scattering across the floor. For a split second, I just stare. Then, pain explodes through my leg. I cry out, stumbling back as blood soaks my boot. The wolf¡¯s claws had torn through flesh, just barely missing the bone. I push myself back, gasping. The wolf watches me, slow and deliberate, licking the blood off its fangs. I can¡¯t believe this. This wasn¡¯t a trap. I did this to myself. I was greedy. Last seconds! "Mom..." "I''m..." "Sorry." The words barely leave my lips as the wolf looms over me, its fangs bared, ready to tear into my throat. I want to cry. I want to scream. But¡ª Sniff. No. Not yet! "Shield me, ward off harm! Aegis Minor!" The last of my mana surges out. A bright glow erupts from my body, and light begins to swirl around me, forming a barrier. This spell isn¡¯t meant for me. Aegis Minor is a high-tier defensive spell cast on frontline warriors, giving them a few seconds of invincibility. It doesn¡¯t last long, even on tanks. But on me? I only have ten seconds. Ten seconds where I can be reckless.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Ten seconds to win. 10 seconds. I push forward, ignoring the stabbing pain in my leg. My body is already at its limit, but I don¡¯t care. The wolf snarls, its golden eyes locked onto me. It lunges, jaws wide, aiming for my throat. 9 seconds. I don¡¯t dodge. 8 seconds. Its massive fangs slam into my barrier¡ª And break. A sickening crack echoes through the room as one of its teeth snaps off. 7 seconds. "This is it!" I duck low, reaching for the broken fang before it even hits the floor. 6 seconds. My fingers wrap around the sharp tooth, still warm from the wolf¡¯s mouth. I rip it free, twisting my body as the wolf prepares another attack. 5 seconds. It vanishes from my sight¡ª Then, before I can react, a blur of gray slams into my side. 4 seconds. The impact knocks the air out of my lungs. My barrier absorbs the hit, but I lose my grip on the tooth. No! I throw myself forward, sliding across the wooden floor. 3 seconds. I grab the tooth again, my fingers tightening around it like a lifeline. The wolf growls low, backing up. It¡¯s preparing something. 2 seconds. It dashes to the far side of the room, lowering its body. My stomach clenches. It¡¯s going to charge. Full speed. A final attack. 1 second. My last second of protection. The wolf leaps, soaring through the air. Its fangs glisten, its claws stretch toward me. I shut my eyes, grip the tooth with both hands, and thrust upward. A sharp, sickening tear. Silence. I open my eyes. The golden glow of my barrier fades away¡ª And the massive wolf collapses, unmoving. I gasp for air, my body trembling. My hands are slick with blood, but I¡¯m alive. That was too close. That was too hard. But it¡¯s too late to turn back now. Floor 5: Watch Out! I pant heavily, each breath stabbing at my lungs. My mana slowly starts to regenerate as I rest against the cold wooden floor. After a few moments, I force myself to stand. My legs are shaky, but I manage. That¡¯s when I see it. Inside the wolf¡¯s mouth, wedged between its massive fangs, is the boss loot. Disgust twists in my stomach, but I have no choice. Gritting my teeth, I step forward and grab onto the chest, yanking it free with a sickening squelch. I drop it onto the floor and wipe my hands on my already-torn outfit. With a deep breath, I open the chest. Inside, a short sword gleams in the dim light. I grin. Finally, a real weapon. Daggers are too short, too weak. Staffs aren¡¯t made for combat. But this gives me some reach, something to fight back with. I grip the sword tightly, feeling its weight in my hand. It¡¯s not the best, but it¡¯s better than nothing. Using the last bit of my mana, I whisper another Restore spell, letting the warmth spread through my aching body. Then, my eyes land on something else¡ªthe broken red gemstone from my staff, lying on the ground. I crouch and pick it up, running my fingers over its cracked surface. I can¡¯t leave it behind. Not yet. I tuck it inside my corset, hoping it stays secure at least until the tenth floor.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. With one last look at the fallen wolf, I move forward. The next door leads me back into the familiar cold stone environment. The warmth of the wooden chamber vanishes as I step onto a spiral staircase, the same type I¡¯ve climbed before. When I reach the next floor, I stop dead in my tracks. The room is a massive triangle. I stand at the widest part, the entrance behind me. In the center, a long rectangular gap stretches from one side of the room to the other¡ªan endless void. At the far narrowest point of the triangle, a skeleton stands in front of the next gate. Its hollow eyes seem to lock onto me instantly. A bow is clutched tightly in its bony fingers, an arrow already nocked. The only way across is a thin wooden plank in the center. It¡¯s not attached to anything. One hit, and it¡¯s gone. I need a plan. The moment I step forward, the skeleton lifts its bow and fires. I barely jerk my head to the side. The arrow grazes my ribs. "Whaaat?" I gasp. I¡¯ve fought skeletons before. They were slow, mindless. This one isn¡¯t. I glance at its armor. A ranked skeleton. Another arrow flies. I dodge, twisting my body. It slams into the stone wall behind me. Wait. I snatch the fallen arrow from the floor, spin on my heel, and hurl it back. The arrow pierces its neck. Its skull topples off. "That was easier than I expected," I mutter. Then its body moves. Its bony hand grips another arrow. Panic shoots through me. It¡¯s immortal. I barely dodge the next shot, but it cuts across my arm. I don¡¯t have time to think. I bolt toward the plank bridge. I just need to rush it. Then the skeleton lifts its foot and kicks the plank. My world freezes. The wooden plank tilts. I¡¯m falling. No time to think. I stab my sword into the stone wall. The blade catches, halting my fall. My boots scrape against the rock as I slide downward, barely holding on. I grit my teeth and haul myself up. The moment I reach solid ground, I sprint. The skeleton fires. I dodge, barely. I tackle it. It smashes its iron gauntlet into my ribs. Pain explodes in my side. But I rip the bow from its hands and snatch the quiver off its shoulder. It¡¯s unarmed. I grab it by the legs. I spin. Once. Twice. And hurl it into the void. I don¡¯t hear it hit the ground. I don¡¯t care. I passed the floor. Breathing heavily, I sling the bow over my back. The arrows rest against my shoulder. Now, I don¡¯t have just one weapon. I have two. First Dimension: Deathmarrow It¡¯s been a rough climb. Only a few floors have passed, but I feel stronger. My movements are sharper, my instincts quicker. I¡¯m adapting to the raid. Stepping onto the next floor, I know something is different. The Abyssal Spire is finally revealing its true nature. Every ten floors, the environment shifts. The raid splits into different dimensions, transitioning from the weakest mobs to the strongest creatures ever recorded. I follow a narrow corridor and step into a circular room with a lone lever in the center. I pull it. The entire room shudders as chains groan and pull me upward. The shift in gravity is sudden and brutal, crushing my body like when I first entered the Spire. The ascent stops. Then, all around me, the walls collapse.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. The room is gone. I stand on a floating stone platform, surrounded by nothingness. A vast, dark sky stretches endlessly above me, swirling in shades of gray, black, and deep blue. There are no stars. Only emptiness. Then I look down. The ground below is a graveyard of carnage. Rotting corpses, shattered bones, rivers of dried blood. Even the rocks are twisted into jagged spikes, as if nature itself was designed to kill. I exhale sharply. This is it. The first dimension. Deathmarrow. A chill runs down my spine. I can feel it. Dozens of unseen eyes lurking at the edges of this nightmare, watching me, waiting. Far in the distance, past the wasteland of bodies, a massive fortress rises from the abyss. The boss castle. But reaching it won¡¯t be easy. I hear the rattling of metal. I turn and see them. Dozens of armored skeletons emerging from the fog, wielding swords, maces, and bows. Each one moves with purpose, unlike the mindless undead I fought before. This time, there¡¯s no bottomless void to toss them into. I need a strategy. I grab my bow, nock an arrow, and aim. I¡¯ve used a bow before. I can do this. I release. The arrow pierces the head of a skeleton. For a moment, I smirk. Then my smile disappears. The skeleton reaches up and pulls the arrow out. It doesn¡¯t fall. I curse under my breath. "So after all¡­ they¡¯re just souls, huh?" Souls are the remnants of dead beings given a second life. Their bodies are just vessels. Attacking the bones is meaningless. The only way to kill a soul¡ª Is to attack its essence. I grab another arrow and close my eyes, focusing. Slowly, my mana seeps into the shaft. The tip begins to glow, a soft, flickering blue. I open my eyes and fire. The arrow strikes the same skeleton. Its soul ignites like a candle, burning in ghostly blue flames for a brief moment before vanishing. The bones collapse into a lifeless heap. A moment of silence. Then¡ª The glowing eyes of every remaining skeleton snap toward me. I just pulled aggro on all of them. "Damn it." With a chorus of rattling armor, they charge. The Death. The horde of skeletons closes in, their weapons gleaming under the dim, deathly sky. It¡¯s time to use it. Finally. I press my hand against the cracked stone beneath me, feeling the heat of my mana surge to life. My voice rings out in the silence. "Bind and ignite them¡ªIgnis Vinculum!" A red circle bursts into existence at my feet, ancient fire symbols glowing as they spread outward. The moment the skeletons step within its radius¡ª Boom! A violent explosion erupts around me, a storm of fire and heat swallowing the entire battlefield. The force blasts the undead backward, their souls shrieking as they burn away in a brilliant, searing light. I squeeze my eyes shut. The fire is too bright, scorching the world around me. When I finally open them again¡­ Nothing remains.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Only ash and bones. I exhale, coughing. My entire body shakes from the sheer power of the spell. "This spell¡­ it¡¯s too heavy¡­" But before I can rest¡ª A sound. A deep, horrifying sound. Like the echo of a horse¡¯s gallop, but distorted. Wrong. I turn. A massive blade swings toward me at terrifying speed. I barely dodge, twisting my body just in time¡ª But pain explodes through my left hand. I scream. I stumble backward, clutching my wrist. My breath catches in my throat when I see¡ª Four fingers. Gone. Blood pours from my hand, dripping onto the scorched ground. My heart pounds as I lift my gaze. The monster before me is unlike anything I¡¯ve faced. A massive, armored knight sits atop a skeletal horse, its body wrapped in tattered, blackened cloth. Hollowed eyes glow deep within its helmet, burning with something far worse than rage¡ªpure hunger. A Death Knight. I scramble to my feet, pain screaming through my nerves. "Please aid me, Light!" I chant, forcing every ounce of mana into a healing spell. Nothing. My magic doesn¡¯t respond. "What¡¯s happening!?" I try to run, but the undead steed surges forward, closing the distance instantly. I barely dodge as the knight swings again. Its massive sword tears through a nearby tree like butter, splitting the trunk apart with terrifying ease. I can¡¯t fight this. Not like this. I try again. Desperation floods my voice. "Light! Light! Take my mana!" Still nothing. Tears sting my eyes, a mix of pain and terror. My bleeding hand trembles as I dodge attack after attack, but the knight is too fast. Another strike. The blade tears across my arm, leaving a deep gash. I reach for my sword. I lift it. It shatters instantly in my grip. I grab my bow¡ª Cold. I freeze. My breath catches. I look down. A massive, jagged sword is sticking through my stomach. ¡­So that¡¯s it. The hardest raid. The Abyssal Spire. The blade is pulled free. Blood pours from my body. I collapse. The world tilts, spinning as the sky darkens above me. Blink. My body feels cold. My limbs heavy. Blink. The knight turns, its dead horse galloping into the shadows. The last thing I see is its glowing eyes staring back at me. Blink. The world fades. The sound of the wind disappears. Then¡ª Darkness. Rebirth at light! Gasp. My eyes snap open. But there is¡­ nothing. I see only myself, my body suspended in a vast, endless void. There is no ground beneath me, no sky above. Just an abyss of black nothingness stretching in all directions. Then, from the emptiness, a ball of golden light appears. It hovers, flickering gently, then begins to drift away. A guide to heaven? I move. My legs carry me forward, yet I feel no weight, no pain. I don¡¯t tire. I just¡­ run. As I chase the light, it splits into three separate orbs, each veering in different directions. Left. Right. Center. Each one radiates a unique presence. A different kind of mana. But my instincts pull me toward the center. It is overwhelming. The moment I reach for it, the golden light bursts. The void shatters into pure radiance. The black abyss transforms into a brilliant golden-white expanse, pillars stretching infinitely in all directions. They form massive bridges, some upright, others twisted at impossible angles.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Then¡ª A sound. "Ssssssss..." A slow, drawn-out hiss. Something massive moves above me. I tilt my head upward. And there it is. A colossal serpent descends from the pillars, its body coiling through the air with ethereal grace. Its scales shimmer white like polished marble, accented with streaks of gold. Its sapphire-like eyes glow with unfathomable wisdom. I freeze. My heart pounds. It is¡­ beautiful. And utterly terrifying. The serpent moves, its massive coils encircling me, spiraling closer with each rotation. It doesn¡¯t strike. Instead, it studies me. Then¡ª It speaks. Its voice is ancient, resonating deep within my soul. --- "Elysia..." "Thou hast grown into a brave girl." "Many scorned thee. Many spat upon thy name, deeming thee naught but a worthless healer." "Yet thou didst prove them false." "Thou didst stand against the abyss alone. Thou didst smite the foul beasts without reliance upon others." "And thus, as a god, I offer thee a boon." "Shall I grant thee a second chance?" --- I stare at the serpent, my breath shallow. I understand what it is asking. I swallow hard, my voice barely a whisper. "...Yes." The serpent''s eyes gleam. "Elysia..." "Then accept my power. Wield me. And change the fate of this world." It lunges. Its massive jaws open, and before I can react¡ª It swallows me whole. --- Gasp. My eyes snap open again. But this time, I am alive. Golden light pulses around me, mending my broken body. My wounds vanish before my eyes, flesh knitting together with radiant energy. And on my chest¡ª A small serpent. Its body, white and gold, coils gently around me, its glowing eyes meeting mine. I hesitate. Slowly, carefully, I reach out and touch it. The moment my fingers graze its smooth scales, a familiar sound reaches my ears. Hoofbeats. I look up. The Death Knight returns. Its hollow eyes burn with fury. I don''t have time to think. The serpent slithers up my arm, its small mouth opening, revealing sharp golden fangs. I aim it at the enemy and whisper¡ª "...Please¡­ do something." The serpent obeys. It bites. From its fangs, a golden liquid drips. It gathers at the tips before launching forward, a stream of divine venom hissing through the air. It strikes. The venom erupts into radiant lightning the moment it touches the Death Knight. A deep, otherworldly scream echoes as the dark soul within the knight¡¯s armor ignites. Light destroys darkness. That¡¯s why my healing spells wouldn¡¯t work before. This serpent¡ªthis power¡ªis not a spell. It is a summon. The Death Knight lets out one final, agonized roar before its body collapses, its soul consumed by divine fire. Silence falls. I clutch the small serpent close to me, my chest rising and falling. The Abyssal Spire took my life. But the world gave me a second chance. And it granted me power. Sanctuary of the Dead I walk through the dark forest, my boots crunching over dried leaves and brittle twigs. By now, I¡¯ve likely reached the eighth floor. With the power of my summon, confidence surges through me. But confidence is not arrogance. I remain cautious. Through the misty gloom, a fortress emerges. Its iron gates loom tall, flanked by two massive archer towers. A chill runs down my spine. I don¡¯t need to step inside to know this place is dangerous. The gates groan as they begin to rise, an ominous invitation into the unknown. I step forward. Beyond the walls, an abandoned town sprawls before me¡ªcrumbling houses, skeletal remains of farms long since withered. And further beyond¡­ Two structures stand taller than the rest. First: A massive church with towering spires piercing the sky. Second: The capital building. Both radiate ominous energy. But first, the church. I walk down the main road, heading straight toward it. The silence presses against my ears, making every step feel heavier. Then a sudden crash. The gates behind me slam shut. I freeze. From the towers above, three skeletal archers emerge, their hollow eyes burning like embers. From the shattered houses, assassins clad in tattered cloaks rush out, their daggers gleaming in the dim light. And blocking my path stands a Death Knight. Not on horseback this time. Just standing there, gripping a massive sword, the aura around him thick with malice. So the one I fought before was merely a basic enemy? I tighten my grip.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! The moment stretches, silent. Then¡ª Flames ignite. The archers dip their arrows into the fire and release them. I sprint forward, dodging with swift, precise movements. I can¡¯t reach the archers. They have the high ground. So I need to eliminate the biggest threat first. The Death Knight. I dash toward him, his towering frame looming as his sword swings. I duck, my breath sharp as the massive blade slices through the air above me. With a quick motion, I grab the small serpent from my shoulder and hurl it toward his bones. The snake slithers inside, waiting for my command. I raise my voice. ¡°LIGHT ITS SOUL!¡± A brilliant flash. The snake radiates golden light, its divine power purging the darkness from within the Death Knight. For a moment, he staggers. His corrupted soul burns away. Then, his body collapses. One down. But I have no time to celebrate. The assassins charge. I can¡¯t use the same trick twice. I place the serpent back on my shoulder and grab a heavy longsword from the fallen knight. The first three assassins reach me. I swing. The blade cuts through them in one brutal motion. But¡ª The weight is too much. I stumble, the sword slipping from my grasp. And then¡ª Silence. The remaining assassins¡­ are gone. I scan my surroundings, heart pounding. A sound behind me. Metal scraping. I spin just in time. A dagger rushes toward my throat. With my bare hands, I catch the blade. The cold metal bites into my palm, but I ignore the pain. With a swift kick, I send the assassin staggering backward. In one motion, I wrench the dagger from its grasp and slash at its legs. The bones snap. They can¡¯t die. But if they can¡¯t move, they¡¯re useless. I exhale sharply, gripping the dagger tightly. The archers above still lurk, their flaming arrows deadly. I need to move. I slip into the shadows, keeping low as I press forward. The road ahead is eerily silent. And then¡ª I reach it. The church. --- It is breathtaking. Even in this dark abyss, the architecture is stunning. Towering stained-glass windows gleam faintly in the gloom, intricate carvings decorating the massive stone walls. But its beauty only deepens my unease. I step inside. The interior is vast¡ªrows of ancient wooden pews stretching into the distance. And sitting upon them¡­ Skeletons. Dressed in the tattered remnants of civilian clothing, they sit motionless, staring at nothing. They don¡¯t move. They don¡¯t react to my presence. As long as I don¡¯t disturb them, they won¡¯t be a problem. Carefully, I crouch and begin to crawl through the shadows. I make my way to the staircase at the side, leading to the second floor. I ascend silently, my breath slow and controlled. The upper level is filled with the remnants of an ancient choir loft. Ornate designs line the walls, long-forgotten hymn books scattered across the floor. But there¡¯s nothing useful here. So I climb higher. A wooden ladder leads up to the church¡¯s rooftop. I push open the door and step into the cold night air. The roof is ancient, the bricks beneath my feet crumbling with every step. And above me¡ª The church tower. Its statue looms high. A lion with wings. It is majestic, carved with divine precision, its presence almost holy. Perhaps, like the serpent on my shoulder, it represents another god. Then¡ª A shift in the air. Something is coming. The sky darkens. Rocks tremble beneath my feet. Then a deep, guttural sound echoes. The statue begins to move. Dust and stone crumble as its massive form awakens. Its wings spread, a powerful gust of wind knocking loose tiles from the roof. I can barely breathe. If this is the boss of the church, then I don¡¯t want to imagine what waits inside the capital building.