"Now, Sigvald… What's the situation with the other groups?"
"I saw that famous Solmarian brat's group take out two people in secret."
"Already?" I ask, disappointment creeping into my tone.
"I know, right? And to think he was preaching about honor just yesterday," Sigvald scoffs. "Are you worried they'll use the monster to kill even more people?"
"They probably already have."
"Good point..."
We both fall silent, narrowing our eyes as we scan the area for their whereabouts. There's no doubt in my mind—Gideon must've fed that Solmarian kid some sweet words to push him into being this aggressive. I can't see any other reason for it.
"Can you keep an eye on them? Make sure they don't stab us in the back."
"Aye. Me and a few new friends will handle it." He pauses, studying me. "Are you sure the three of you can take that monster down?"
"I still don't know what's possible and what isn't in this world," I admit. "But I'll try anyway."
The boy lets out a small chuckle. "That's a weird answer... but alright. See you later."
"Stay safe."
"Yeah, you too."
Sigvald turns without even a wave, walking off as if we hadn't just been speaking like comrades. It's almost unnerving how easily he can slip back into his role, disappearing into the crowd like a true professional.
As soon as the boy vanishes into the darkness, I pull up my stats window.
72 HP left.
Beside me, Siona's HP bar flickers dangerously. A quick glance confirms my suspicions—she's down to just 7 HP. No wonder it keeps blinking like that.
Yeah… no choice. I have to do something about it.
"Parx... Akh... Xerathil... Vithara... Voz..."
Once more, that dim light seeps from my body, drifting toward someone else.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Siona snaps.
"You'll need it. Just in case."
"As if you don't need it yourself, you idiot."
Her sharp words roll right off me. I barely react—except for the part where my own stats window starts flashing now that hers has stabilized and then vanishes.
╔══════════════════════════════════════════ ══╗
║ ⌈ Status Window ⌋ ║
╠══════════════════════════════════════════ ══╣
║ ▶ HP: **11 / 138** ║
║ ▶ SP: **39 / 195** ║
╚══════════════════════════════════════════ ══╝
I guess I'll be stuck like this for a while… At least Siona is no longer the center of attention for any lurking murderers—no more. Instead, that honor shifts to me.
Which, honestly? Is the better option for my upcoming plan.
~~~~~
"What plan?" Siona asks, running beside me as we follow the flow of battle.
"Alright, listen… I notice your Strength stat is way higher than anyone else's I've seen. Most of your spells revolve around the word 'reinforce,' and on top of that, you have a ridiculously high pain tolerance."
My eyes flick around, scanning the battlefield more than actually focusing on our conversation. It isn't intentional, but it makes my words come out in stops and starts. Still, I press on. "So… maybe we should find you a shield or something first—before you take on the role of a tank or something like that."
She frowns at my words, but at the same time, she looks quite reluctant to argue. "This is exactly why people don't just let others see their stats so easily."
"Yeah… Sorry about that."
Now that I really think about it… I bet all of us here are indeed the souls of adults—or maybe even people who died in old age.
But because the bodies we inhabit are those of children, maybe that influences our personalities too, making us a bit more childish than we used to be. That's obvious in Siona's reaction just now and, honestly, in my own as well. Sometimes, I catch myself being more impulsive, more naïve than I would've expected.
Then there are Garrik and Sigvald—so easily amazed, so quick to get excited over things. Even though, logically, they should've seen plenty of these things before they died, none of this should surprise them. And yet… here we are.
"Though if I were in my original body, a ridiculous monster like this would be nothing to me," Siona mutters, sounding almost like a complaint.
"Really? You've fought creatures like this before?"
"I've fought plenty—ones far bigger and stronger... some that could even use magic."
Siona looks at me with an expression that seems to say I can believe her or not.
But from the certainty in her eyes, it's clear—she knows exactly what she has seen and fought before, and to be honest, I have no reason to doubt her words.
However, the moment the very thing I've been searching for finally comes into view, I decide it's wiser for both of us to save that conversation for later.
And so I signal Siona to refocus.
"There! Would that one work for you?" I point at an undead wielding a long hexagonal coffin shield—wooden with an iron frame.
In the hands of that towering corpse, the shield looks almost small. But for Siona, it would be large enough to offer solid protection while still being manageable in combat.
She glances at it, then gives me a sharp nod, a faint grin tugging at her lips. That's all the confirmation I need. Without hesitation, we veer toward the undead.
"I'll go in from the front. You circle around," I say.
She doesn't waste time questioning it. With a swift pivot, she peels away from my side, moving in a wide arc to flank our target.
The undead's hollow, lifeless eyes snap toward me as I charge. I zigzag forward, dagger low, feinting an attack—then, at the last moment, I kick off the ground and plant both feet against its shield.
This is a test.
First, I need to know if the shield can withstand impact. If it splinters too easily, it won't be worth using.
Second, I want to see if I can use it as a springboard to gain height without wrecking my own legs… But the instant my bare feet make contact, the answers come fast.
The shield holds firm. That's good.
And I'm flung upward, gaining solid air without any nasty consequences. Even better.
The force sends the undead stumbling back, but only because it hasn't braced itself against the hit. It isn't reacting like a trained soldier—slower, duller. Weaker.
Right as it staggers, Siona strikes.
With her light sword gripped tightly in one hand, she carves into its back in a clean, decisive slash, splitting rotting flesh and brittle bone in a single stroke.
"What was that for?" Siona asks as I crouch, steadying myself after landing on the stone floor.
"Tzeryn. I remember you saying that spell before—it means 'thrust,' right? I have a feeling it works on shields."
"Yeah… So?"
"I want to do the same thing I just did—but this time, with you using that spell."
She lets out a short, incredulous laugh. "You're being serious?"
"Completely."
"You know you'll just shatter your legs, right?"
She says it so casually, like it's just an obvious fact.
"Not if we get the timing right. I want you to cast it the moment my feet touch the shield—never sooner, even if it is just for a split second."
She exhales sharply, a mix of disbelief and resignation in her expression. Then, after a moment, she gives me a small nod.
Suddenly, a commotion erupts from the other side of the chamber. Yet another victim has fallen to the monster—whether from a fair fight or something more deliberate, I can't tell. Either way, we decide to ignore it and stay focused on our plan. Without hesitation, Siona and I take off running again.
We weave past several other kids who are too preoccupied battling the undead to pay us any mind. But the closer we get to the monster, the more children we see gathering—bracing themselves, just in case it decides to target them next.
And the moment we step into the monster's scent range, it abruptly halts its fight.
Its nostrils flare as if trying to identify a scent—something familiar. Then, its gaze locks directly onto me with an unsettling intensity.
"Uh… Deon? I think it has some kind of personal vendetta against you," Siona mutters.
But I let out a short laugh. "Can you think of a more perfect setup for our plan?"
Before she can respond, the monster lets out a furious roar and lunges toward us.
"Get some distance," I tell Siona, my voice calm despite the looming threat. Then, with a smirk, I add, "And whatever you do, don't break that shield."
Without waiting for a reply, I bolt.
~~~~~