Maid with Necromancy

Chapter Sixteen

Harmony's head throbbed as she regained consciousness to the extent that her vision blurred, and all she could see was a glowing fuzzy white aura. As her eyes focused, it remained fuzzy, the furry kind. A large white dog sat calmly in front of her, the kind that Ambrosia would declare "Adorbs." and name Snowball because it was white and fluffy, then assure her birds that she loves them just as much while relentlessly petting said dog.

And between the dog and sat Hyacinth. He projected a heavy sense of caution through [Familiar Bond] and held a low purring croak in his chest.

"Congratulations on completing your challenge." The dog spoke.

Hurting head, speaking dog, challenge. She tried to sort it out and sneezed. Death tickled her nose. Not her death but the internal presence of her class. The events of the day came crashing back to her. Her partner's steady company and a poke at her social skills kept her calm.

Letting her senses glance out, the scary presence of the not-dog was remarkably well contained. Even then, she had had to look away and tamper that part of her down or risk getting too caught up in it.

"I appreciate it, Old Bones." She told the dog-that-was-not-a-dog as she slid back into the differential role her profession cultivated.

"It's rare that I get someone with such an early fascinating blueprint. Keeping your team alive. Contributing to battles. Exemplifying what it means to challenge me."

The term blueprint to describe one's progression path was old, old, old. Harmony only recognized it from Tyler's rare collection of documents. The kind that was only a page or two of lost texts and preserved in spelled glass. She didn't miss how some teammates not coming out alive was a strong possibility. The same kind of casualness about life and death many lords and ladies had.

Harmony sat up. "I always try my best." Internally she brushed up against aspects of [Style and Grace] and [Poise and Bearing] that flowed in the movement of her soul. Once, the idea of touching them so lightly was a difficult task. Even though she'd only had [Mana Rotation] for a few days, she was glad she had it now. If she had needed to activate the skills, she knew someone like Old Bones would be able to instantly tell. So she leaned on a light touch and the phrase she said the manor's matriarch every time she had her skills complemented.

"Do you really?" Old Bones asked.

Harmony could feel the ancient power behind those words. Older, wiser, more powerful, and full of questioning about what she did while she fought with Tyler, Rose, Len, and Max. It was the weight of the world, and the maid kept silent rather than answer.

That old voice continued. "With your class, you should have led your compatriots. Showing them where and what danger was approaching. As structured as you are, none of them should have gotten a scratch under such guidance. My domain was not so resistant to your class senses that you couldn't divine the perils ahead. Then they act as you direct them. Indomitable, burn, pierce, sever. You're not at your best if you don't fully use the tools you have and the tools others provide. Next time I want to see you at your fullest. "

That recognizable tone had to be more ancient than civilization. This is the proper way to clean with your dust skill. Skill training is through repetition and speed. The appropriate way to attract a suiter is. This is how you lead a dungeon party. Oh, Harmony knew there was useful information in such lectures. It also ignored the reality of who she was and her limited status. Who knew that Old Bones, the dungeon beneath Hazeldown, was a bit of a patronizing jerk.

Standing up, she curtsied. "Your wisdom honors me."

Hyacinth had to keep quiet to force himself from croaking in laughter.

"Ahem. Well, perfect is a bit much to ask for someone so young. Your reward, challenger." A small chest rose out of the dungeon floor.

Kneeling back down, Harmony opened the chest. She wasn't greeted by a pile of wealth but instead by three items. A chunk of white bone, a skill stone, and a glove. [Analyze] activated.

Champion's Tooth - Stride Before the Fall - Glove[Paired]

The tooth! No more appeasing Tyler. No more dungeon trips. The skill stone had to be rare, four words in a description, and stride implied a movement skill. Only five.... no, she could feel that she finally went up to twelve, four more levels until she gained a new skill slot. A barrier created by the domain was blocking her from selecting her new class skill and having her stats unlocked. The glove was the missing half of the one she wore. Now she felt a little stupid for thinking it had been something special.

"Yes, I noticed your gear was incomplete, and I was able to help there." The dungeon had a sense of smugness to its tone.

Why did powerful beings always have to have a sense of humor revolving around what they could do for you? It could have been worse. The missing glove had to be worth at least the three copper she paid for the first one. The tooth she needed now, an escape skill she only required levels for, and a glove. She shoved the stone and tooth into the already pretty full pack after all the guardians the team had defeated.

For the glove, she had an easier way of carrying that. She slid that onto her free hand, finally matching the one next to it.

[Paired?]

Prompted to select yes or no. Damn, the glove couldn't be too unusual if all it took was equipping it to be matched up to an identical one on her other hand. Yes, she confirmed.

[Armor and skill acceptable. Pairing now.]

"What?"

Strings of energy shot down her arms and linked to the decorative bits of armor that covered her, from the forearm guards to the bits on her chest and parts strapped to her legs, including her metal-tipped boots. She could feel the magic connecting and dancing along the armor, then it pierced into her soul and right into the [Small Armor] skill.

She felt like she'd been stabbed. Unlike with the skill stones, she hadn't prepared herself for this. A single link formed, and it started carving out a hollow space inside her soul. Well, it felt like that. It was more like a bubble was being blown to create a pocket or cave inside the area [Small Armor] took up. The information that came with it was more like crude grunts and sloppy drawings implying keep, repair, strengthen, and wear.

Harmony gasped, inhaling, but she inhaled more than just the air, and a fullness filled her up. Contrasting that sensation, a chill tickled her in a way that one felt when a formerly bit of covered skin gets exposed. Most of the little clothes she had on were now gone, every bit of armor, and her bare feet rested on the cold earthy ground. Naked! She was naked!

"Ho ho ho." The dungeon chuckled. "An adventurer never being apart from their gear. What an exciting sight and achievement for one so young."

The struggle to maintain her composure right now turned out to be one of the most challenging moments of the day's events. No one was actually ogling her, she reminded herself. The armor was inside her? Why did it have to be -that- armor? Could she undo it? Old Bones certainly wasn't the one to ask. Internally she poked the skill and found herself dressed again.

Dressed and clean as the dirt, grime, and blood had been removed in the process of having it appear back on. Even slight scrapes and scuffs looked to be partially repaired.

"Exciting." She managed to agree pleasantly.

"I hope to see you back in my domain after you've consolidated your gains. But now it is time to bid you goodbye." Old Bones said. The presence of death fluctuated uncomfortably like it was about to burst forth and cover the world in darkness.

An exit portal shimmered open.

The chance to finally leave outweighed any risk of questioning this mighty dungeon. With a short incline of her head, she hopped through. Hyacinth followed but released a rudely toned croak just before he passed through the threshold.

With the portal snapped shut, death and darkness did explode forth as the image of the cute puppyish dog twisted and warped back into the dungeon's natural form of tortured nightmares and wailing souls. Restraining oneself was a tiresome task for the being. Rare was it able to exercise some of the more obscure clauses of the contract that kept it linked to this town.