Every step she took was reinforced by the steel forming beneath her feet—her Steel Creation shaping into plated boots that glinted under the dim, flickering light from wall sconces. She wasn't just running.
She was gliding through war.
From the shadows above, a sudden whistling sound cut through the air.
She twisted sideways in a blur, and three skeleton heads—sharpened like jagged projectiles—narrowly missed her, one smashing into the wall and exploding in a burst of bone fragments. She didn't even blink.
Someone's shooting these things. Could it be a first-grade skeleton? Or something worse?
She thought, her gaze sweeping upward, but nothing was there—just the endless twisting corridors and grotesque bone-sculpted architecture of the castle.
Her speed didn't falter.
Steel surged from her ankles, reinforcing the next few steps. Every time her foot touched the ground, a metallic pulse shot out, enhancing her mobility.
Her steel boots compressed the stone tiles beneath her, creating a momentary crater before launching her forward again.
The castle responded to her presence.
From both sides of the corridor, skeleton hands wielding bone swords erupted from the walls, their jagged arms stretching like grotesque vines. Each one swung in perfect, coordinated slashes.
Lunara didn't break stride.
With a breath, she activated her Creation again—steel coating her entire body in a seamless shell of lightweight armor. The swords clashed against her without slowing her pace.
They shattered on impact, the brittle bone fragments scattering behind her like confetti in a funeral parade.
More came. Dozens of hands. Hundreds.
She was undeterred.
They slashed and swung—but they broke. Every single one. Her armor didn't so much as crack. Her momentum was unstoppable.
And then she saw her.
The corridor widened, and standing at its heart was a figure unlike any other skeleton she had faced. This wasn't a mindless drone. It wasn't even a berserk. It was… her opposite.
A tall figure cloaked in black, her silhouette feminine, yet unnatural.
She wore a long coat stitched together with dangling skeleton heads and rusted daggers, each swaying with every subtle movement.
Her crown was a chilling sculpture: a ring of skulls, with four spinal vertebrae curving upward and meeting at the center, cradling a single blue gem.
From it, a dark aura pulsed, rippling through the air like heat waves from a fire long extinguished.
Her eyes glowed a piercing, unnatural blue. Her gray hair flowed down over her shoulders like silk weaved in death.
She tilted her head slightly, eyeing Lunara with a casual amusement.
"Oh… I thought you were the Witch Queen," she said, her voice as smooth as it was cold. "Guess I got unlucky."
Lunara froze for a heartbeat. Not because of fear—but shock. This skeleton… spoke. With full comprehension. Full self-awareness.
"You can talk?" she asked, sword already forming in her hand.
The figure smiled.
"I can do more than talk. I am the Skeleton Queen."
Lunara narrowed her eyes, steel energy shimmering across her forearms. "So it's true. You're the one behind this side of the castle."
"I command the dead, yes," she replied, examining her fingers with a bored look. "But I'm not alone."
"Then why are you siding with the Purgatorists?" Lunara demanded. "You know they'll sacrifice you the second they need to bring one of their own back."
The Skeleton Queen's expression didn't change. "That's none of your concern."
And then, without warning—she attacked.
Lunara stepped back instinctively, her stance tightening. But before either of them could lunge, a voice crackled through the magical comms in her ear.
Zayne.
"I took down the Wings Purgatorist," he grunted. "But I'm hurt. Can't move. Might need backup."
Annie's voice followed quickly, clear and commanding. "Good job. Witches—get potions to Zayne before the enemy finds him. Don't let him bleed out."
Lunara couldn't respond. She was already preparing.
The Skeleton Queen raised both hands.
From every corner of the corridor, skeletons emerged. Not just weaklings. Not just fodder. These were third-grade...
Second-grade. Even first-grade skeletons stomped forward, some bearing armor, others fused with dark weapons and jagged limbs.
"Kill her," the Queen said with a wave.
Lunara took a single breath and activated her Creation again.
A thick, long sword formed in her hand, its steel shimmering with weight and cutting power. She lunged forward.
Her first swing cleaved through three skeletons in a single arc, their brittle bodies shattering like broken statues. A second-grade skeleton rushed from behind, but she spun and drove her sword through its chest cavity, exploding it into pieces.
Two first-grade skeletons appeared on either side, and without hesitation, they used their own Skeleton Creation, summoning floating skulls that began launching at her.
Lunara pivoted, sliding beneath the incoming projectiles. She slashed upward with perfect timing, cutting through both skeletons in one fluid motion. Their skulls shattered mid-air.
Then ten more skeletons grouped together.
She paused. Something felt off.
They weren't attacking directly.
Instead, the group lifted their arms, and from their bones formed a single enormous weapon—a giant bone sword crafted from humerus bones, fused together and glowing with necrotic energy.
They hurled it like a javelin.
Lunara braced herself. She brought up her steel sword and dug in.
The impact cracked the floor beneath her. Her knees buckled. Her arms screamed in protest. For a moment, it felt like the weight of death itself was pushing her back.
But her steel held.
With a defiant roar, she pushed upward and shattered the bone sword into dust.
She didn't wait for the next wave.
With a burst of speed from her steel boots, she rushed toward them, leapt into the air, and swung her blade in a downward arc.
Steel met bone—bone lost.
One by one, she dismantled the skeletons. A hurricane of motion, precision, and raw power.
When the dust settled, she stood amidst a sea of shattered remains, her armor scorched but intact, her breath steady.
The Skeleton Queen clapped slowly. "Atta girl…"
Lunara stared her down.
"While you might not be the queen of the witches," the Skeleton Queen said with a grin, "I like your strength. Let's make this a long and beautiful battle."
Lunara lifted her sword.
Her voice was cold, resolute. "I've found the Skeleton Queen," she said through her comm. "I'm engaging."
Steel surged once more around her hands, and the castle grew quieter.
The Queen's blue eyes glinted like sapphire fire.
Their battle had just begun.