Avery stood a short distance away from Emily, her expression calm as she explained the process once more.
Emily followed her words and closed her eyes.
At first, she felt nothing.
The battlefield remained silent around her. The smell of scorched earth and burnt flesh still lingered in the air, but she forced herself to ignore it. She focused only on her Spirit Element.
Slowly, she spread her senses outward.
Minutes passed.
Then something changed.
Tiny fragments of light began appearing in the darkness of her perception. At first there were only a few. Then hundreds. Then thousands.
Emily almost lost focus.
Countless spirit fragments floated throughout the area like drifting stars. Some were dim while others burned brighter. They moved upward little by little, vanishing one after another as they left the mortal realm.
All of them were undead once chained to the Necromancer.
Now that the Drowned King was dead, those spirits were finally returning to the cycle of Nirvana.
Emily steadied herself and began searching through them carefully.
She needed to find the lingering spirit of the Necromancer.
The task quickly became overwhelming.
There were simply too many spirits. Every direction was crowded with fragments of souls. Some were weak and disappeared almost instantly while others lingered longer. Trying to locate one specific spirit among them felt impossible.
Several more minutes passed.
Emily’s brows slowly tightened.
She was beginning to think she would fail.
Then she noticed something.
The stronger the spirit was, the slower it disappeared.
Her thoughts paused for a second before realization hit her.
The Necromancer had been the strongest spirit present here.
That meant it would take the longest time to leave the mortal realm.
Emily immediately calmed down.
There was no need to panic anymore. If she simply waited long enough, every weaker spirit would disappear first.
She took a slow breath and continued searching.
Perhaps it was luck, perhaps her search became better because she was no longer panicking, she found the spirit of Necromancer.
She called it back.
Dark mist gathered in front of Emily before condensing into a humanoid figure.
A tall man appeared.
He wore armor similar to the Drowned King’s, though his appearance was far cleaner and more regal now. A dark cape fluttered lightly behind him. His skin was gray, his ears pointed, and sharp shark-like teeth could be seen behind slightly parted lips.
The Necromancer looked directly at Emily.
Then his gaze shifted around the battlefield.
The Crimson Sky Wyrm stared back at him from nearby, its massive eyes unblinking. The pressure radiating from it was enough to make the surroundings feel heavier.
If the Necromancer attempted to summon undead again, the wyrm would destroy the skill before it fully formed.
And unlike before, there were no corpses left nearby.
The Drowned King could forcefully resurrect spirits instead of corpses, but that required significantly more mana, and such spirits would only fight temporarily. He was a necromancer, not a true Spirit Tamer.
Several more powerful Spirit Summons stood around Emily as well.
The situation was obvious.
"Do you want to do this the hard way or the easy way?" Emily asked with a small smile.
The Necromancer remained silent for a moment.
His eyes moved across the surrounding summons once more before returning to Emily.
"Disadvantageous as the situation may be, I am not afraid of battle. However..."
To everyone’s surprise, the Necromancer removed his crown and lowered himself onto one knee.
"Please allow me to serve you, O Great One."
Emily blinked.
"...Why do you want to serve me?" she asked honestly.
The answer genuinely surprised her. The Necromancer clearly was not terrified of her command power. He looked perfectly willing to fight if necessary. Yet he had surrendered without resistance.
The Necromancer lowered his head slightly.
"I may have been alive, but I could not think. Only now, in death, have I been given the opportunity to truly think for myself. For that, I am deeply grateful," he said calmly.
Emily understood immediately.
There were two kinds of monsters.
Natural Monsters and System Monsters.
Natural Monsters were creatures like Ogres or Crawling Serpents. They developed intelligence naturally as they grew stronger.
But System Monsters were different.
No matter how powerful they became, they behaved almost like programs following fixed instincts and commands. They fought, hunted, and killed because that was what they were created to do.
They did not truly think.
However, once resurrected through Emily’s Spirit Element, those monsters changed. They gained individuality and intelligence. They became capable of thought, emotion, and self-awareness.
To Emily and the others, the ability to think was normal.
To a former System Monster, it was freedom.
"In that case, I accept your request," Emily said after a moment.
Spirit energy flowed outward from her body.
The Necromancer did not resist.
A Spirit Bond formed.
Dark gray light connected the two briefly before fading away completely.
The Drowned King slowly rose to his feet again, but this time there was no hostility in his eyes.
Afterward, the group rested for a short while.
Some sat down to recover mana while others checked their injuries. The battle against the Drowned King had drained everyone more than expected.
During that time, Emily took out the Ancient Spirit Contract Scrolls they had obtained as rewards.
The scrolls were ancient and worn, covered in faded symbols that seemed to shift slightly when stared at directly.
Emily looked toward Eleanor.
"Can I use these now?" she asked.
Eleanor glanced at the scrolls before nodding.
"It’s a good idea. They’ll help us in the Third Area" she said.
Officially, all loot distribution would happen after leaving the dungeon, under Isaac’s supervision. But no one objected to Emily using the scrolls immediately.
Everyone already knew those rewards would end up belonging to her anyway.
Emily stepped forward and activated the first scroll.
The ancient parchment dissolved into motes of light.
Those motes gathered together and formed a portal.
A powerful pressure spread across the surroundings almost instantly.
Then someone walked out.
He was humanoid, tall and broad-shouldered, with two blue horns extending from his temples. A thick dark-blue spear rested in his hand. Faint scales covered parts of his arms and cheeks, while a long blue scaled tail swayed behind him.
"This damned System, it won’t even let me rest in peace," the man muttered while clicking his tongue.
He walked forward casually, but the mana surrounding him felt terrifying, and deep, like an endless ocean quietly hiding monsters beneath the surface.
Emily immediately understood one thing.
This spirit was absurdly strong.
"Greetings, I’m Emily Warren Hargraves, the one who summoned you," Emily said politely as she stepped forward.
"Mhm."
The man nodded without much interest.
His eyes scanned Emily carefully.
He inspected her mana quality, awakening rank, elemental affinity, and spirit fluctuations in seconds.
The more he observed, the less interested he became.
He had already been leaning toward refusal before seeing her. Now his decision was practically settled.
The bloodline seemed to be something special, but nothing else seemed to be noteworthy. Someone like her, already beyond her teens and only an Adept, was clearly a lazy awakener.
Emily noticed that he never introduced himself. Just as she was about to continue speaking, another voice interrupted.
"Oz?"
The man turned toward Eleanor.
"Someone here knows me?" he asked.
Despite his humble question, a hint of arrogance seeped into his tone. He was proud. It only made sense he was known even today.
After all, he was the East Sea Dragon King, Oz.
Before the Apocalypse, Dragon ranks had been divided into Infant Dragon, Adult Dragon, High Dragon, Arch Dragon, and Dragon King.
A Dragon King stood at the very top.
Oz was a Dragon King.
The East Sea Dragon King.
He had once ruled over an entire dragon civilization. Someone whose name alone had once shaken continents.
Oz didn’t notice Eleanor’s smile disappearing. The warmth that had appeared in Eleanor’s eyes was quickly cooling.
"You don’t recognize me?" Eleanor asked quietly.
Oz raised a brow at the question, and looked at her more carefully.
A sneer appeared on his face.
"A human with low-rank bloodline. And you dare suggest I should recognize you? Do you want to die?" he asked.
The atmosphere instantly became colder.
Emily frowned. Alice slowly stood up. Even the Crimson Sky Wyrm shifted slightly.
But Eleanor simply smiled.
"Lume," she called out.
Emily immediately understood what Eleanor was trying to do.
She gave a small nod toward the Abyssal Trickster.
The spirit moved at once.
Illusions quickly formed over the battlefield, twisting what the livestream cameras would capture. Anyone watching would only see harmless distortions and vague movements instead of what was actually happening.
Only after the illusions settled did Eleanor move again.
Mana flowed into the weapon in her hand.
Oz frowned at first, not understanding what she was doing.
Then the sword began to change.
The blade thickened. The sharp edges disappeared.
A moment later, a black metal baseball bat rested in Eleanor’s hand.
Oz flinched.
Even Alice flinched slightly beside Emily.
The reaction was immediate.
Oz’s pupils narrowed into vertical slits and his mana exploded outward instinctively. He even stumbled back a step before catching himself.
Fear appeared on his face for the first time.
"W-What is this? How did you get your hands on that cursed weapon?" he asked.
Eleanor did not answer.
She simply took one step forward.
Oz immediately took two steps back.
"S-Stop right there! Or you will face the consequences of this Drakon King’s wrath!" he shouted.
The confidence in his voice sounded forced now.
The difference from earlier was so obvious that even Emily stared at him strangely.
This was the same arrogant Dragon King who had looked down on everyone moments ago, and now he looked like he wanted to run.
Eleanor continued walking toward him calmly.
Oz’s grip on his spear tightened.
"Do you think I am afraid of you, human? Stop while I am still giving you a chance!" he snapped.
Eleanor stopped only a few meters away from him.
Then she tilted her head slightly.
"Do you still not recognize me?" she asked.
Oz’s mind spun rapidly.
At first he thought it was impossible.
But the more he looked at the bat, the more memories surfaced in his mind. Painful memories. Humiliating memories.
The way she walked.
The way she spoke.
And most importantly... that damned demonic weapon.
Cold sweat formed on his forehead.
For a brief moment, one terrifying thought appeared in his mind.
’Master?’
Then he immediately rejected it internally.
’No. Impossible. That old bat can’t still be alive.’
But another thought followed right after.
What if she reincarnated?
Oz’s expression nearly collapsed.
His tail stiffened and his spear trembled slightly in his hand.
At that moment, he genuinely wanted to cry.
What kind of dogshit luck did he have?
He had already died once, finally escaped that monster of a woman, and somehow still ended up meeting her again after death.