Swordsman's Regression: Reawakened as a Necromancer-Chapter 52: Scouting With Skeletons

Percival secured a modest room in an inn. It had a window and a mana-lamp rather than a plain candle.

He stood, gazing out the window at the commoners carrying on with their daily activities.

"It looks different from what you remember, right?"

He turned around to Mercius, who was standing in the center of the room, a spectral form burning blue.

His soul was bound to Percival, tethered by the [Soul Soldier] skill, yet not fully contracted.

For now, he was a weapon in its sheath. Percival could not command him to do anything; and at the same time, Mercius could not act of his own accord.

He was simply a witness.

Mercius drifted toward the window, his silver armor glistening from the sunlight while the azure flames crackled around him.

He looked down at the city he had died defending.

"The lamps are brighter," he rumbled. "And the streets... they are paved with finer cobber stone. It is cleaner. More organized."

He looked left and right. "Apart from that, little has changed."

Percival pursed his lips.

For some reason, he had expected more.

He had been excited to introduce the present world to a ghost from the past, wanting to see the fascination in their eyes.

But perhaps progress in Evernia moved slower than in his old world.

"Tell me, Master," Mercius said, refocusing on the matter that truly concerned him. "You said you’ve gathered some information."

Percival turned from the window. "Yes."

He relayed everything to the Brackenbutcher.

The fall of the Crestveils, the revocation of the Dukedom, the desperation of the Highbards, and the grim rumors about Alenya being locked inside the Old Fort.

"She is alive," Percival finished. "But she is a prisoner in her own home."

Mercius was visibly outraged. The azure flames on his armor flared, his blue eyes burned cold as he turned, clenching his fists.

"Highbards..." he growled the name like a curse. "I knew they were vultures. I did not know they were gaolers."

"I’m going there tonight," Percival said calmly, pushing off the wall. "I need to see the layout. If I’m going to get close enough to speak to her, I need a route."

Mercius bowed his head, the flames settling down. "Thank you, Master."

Night in Ostuary was a heavy thing.

The sea mist rolled in, thick and cold, shrouding the streets in a grey haze.

Percival moved through the fog of people like a phantom. He avoided the main thoroughfares, sticking to the alleys.

Despite the sickening smell of fish guts and wet wood, he continued, eyes occasionally lifting toward the silhouette of the Old Fort in the distance.

The sooner he completed this Contract Quest, the sooner he could fully contract Mercius, so he could move on to his next location...

...before it was too late.

Minutes later, he reached the Old Fort.

On a promontory of serrated rock that jutted out from the Bracken River, the building stood.

It was an impressive structure, made of black saintstone, designed to withstand attacks from at most, three Lvl 80 Mages.

The fort possessed high walls, narrow arrow slits, and a single, heavily guarded causeway connecting it to the city.

It was a fortress built by paranoids, for paranoids.

Percival stopped at the base of the stone bridge that led to the main gate. He slipped underneath the archway, crouching in the damp shadows where the sea crashed against the pilings.

He couldn’t ⸢Grave Step⸥ inside the building since the Skill required line of sight. But, he had another plan.

He checked his mana.

⸢Mana: 1692/1800⸥

"⸢Awake⸥"

Blue flames blazed around him. One by one, his Skeleton Soldiers materialized from the furnace. Sixteen of them stood in the cramped space under the bridge, their azure eyes glowing faintly.

Of course, now, they didn’t stand plainly like before. They stood like skilled soldiers, tactical warriors awaiting their commander to give them the directive.

"You are scouting the Old Fort," Percival said. "Spread out and find a way inside the walls. A drain, a crack, a forgotten door. Do not engage. Do not be seen."

The Skeletons nodded in unison.

Then, they dispersed. They sneaked their way up the bridge, some climbed the sheer rock face of the cliff, others slipped into the dark waters of the moat.

Two brave ones began to scale the outer wall directly.

Percival sat back against the wet stone and like back in Cuttleham, activated his Summons Map.

It was like watching a strategy game. Sixteen skulls appeared on his HUD, fanning out around the perimeter of the Fort.

He watched Skeleton 4 climb the eastern wall. The dot moved steadily upward, then suddenly stopped. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

A red exclamation mark ⸢ ! ⸥ popped up next to the icon.

That meant the Skeleton had been caught. There was no free route there to lead him into the building.

Percival immediately dismissed the Skeleton into blue smoke, likely terrifying whoever it was that had caught it.

Skeleton 7 tried the main gate, hiding under a carriage.

⸢ ! ⸥

It was detected by the guard who was using a mana sensing cube.

"Hey!"

Percival quickly dismissed the Skeleton.

Sketchers 12 tried to swim through the water intake.

⸢ ! ⸥

It grated too thick and was caught by a patrol on the docks.

Percival sent it back to its Summon Space.

One by one, the dots turned red and vanished from the map.

Up above, the Fort was waking up. Percival could hear some guards barking at each other about seeing skeletons in armor.

Because of the Merman Warrior Armor Set that Percival’s Skeletons wore, some guards thought they were skeletons of the oceanic knights, haunting them for building in the river.

Others thought it was the Warriors the Highbards had killed in their hunt for power.

However, the consensus was the same. They all believed the Old Fort was haunted.

Percival focused on his map.

One Skeleton was left.

It was scaling the western cliffside, the most dangerous approach where the waves battered the rocks.

The skull moved slowly on Percival’s map. It reached a craggy outcropping and shimmied along a narrow ledge.

Then, the dot passed through the wall.

Rather than red, it glowed a bright, pulsing green.

Percival’s eyes lit up. "Found one."

He focused on the Skeleton and activated ⸢Summon Swap⸥.

After a burst of azure energy, Percival materialized on a narrow stone ledge, fifty feet above the churning ocean. He pressed his back against the cold, slimy rock.

Skeleton 16 had found a refuse chute. It was an ancient, square hole cut into the cliff, crusted with decades of salt and filth, likely used to dump kitchen waste into the sea.

It was small, but big enough for a man to squeeze through.

Percival peered into the hole. It led straight up into the lower foundations of the keep.

Perfect, he thought.

He was about to climb in when he heard voices echoing down the shaft.

"Station guards everywhere!" a captain roared. "Miller saw a skeleton on the east wall, and Jacobs swears one vanished right in front of him at the gate! Search everywhere!"

"Should we wake the Baron?"

"No! Are you mad? What are we going to tell him? That skeletons are attacking the fort? He’ll have our hides. Just double the patrols!"

Percival remained still for a while.

’I shouldn’t waste this opening,’ he thought. ’They’re all on edge. If I enter, they’re likely to find me in no time. And the Highbards certainly have Awakeners under their banner.’

’Even though I’m uncertain of who I might face, I could fight my way through. But that would only be necessary when I determine Alenya’s situation.’

He stepped back. ’By tomorrow afternoon, they’ll be exhausted and convinced what happened tonight was mass hysteria. I’ll be back by then.’

The barks continued inside the fort. Percival activated ⸢Summon Swap⸥, switching sides with the Skeleton once again.

Then, when he was back under the bridge, he returned the Soldier into its Summon Space.

Percival pulled his hood tight and slipped out from under the bridge, blending back into the foggy streets of Ostuary.

He headed back to his inn.

First, he planned to sleep. Then, before he sneaks into the Old Fort, he planned to spend the morning training to use the scythe.