The Third Return of the Necrotic Magic Swordsman

Just a few minutes ago, deep within a dark alley not far from Lumina City’s central district…

The clash between Lucas and the shadowy figure known as Tenebris—Evan in disguise—raged fiercely. Though Lucas held his ground with impressive resolve, the battle was clearly one-sided. Evan, blessed with far superior stat points and combat experience, held the advantage.

Meanwhile, Tess, who had grown increasingly anxious when Lucas failed to return from his solo patrol, exited the restaurant and began searching. Her hunter’s instincts flared the moment she heard the distinct clang of clashing steel echoing from a secluded alley nearby.

“Who’s fighting this close to the main square...?” she muttered, eyes narrowing.

Drawn by instinct, she followed the sound. A flicker of flame burst from the shadows, momentarily lighting the alley’s darkness. Her sharp gaze caught two silhouettes locked in combat. One she didn’t recognize, but the other—on his knees, bloodied and barely holding on—was unmistakable.

“LUCAAAASSSS!!”

Her scream pierced the air like one of her arrows. Without hesitation, she summoned her bow and loosed a shot.

The arrow flew with wind-blessed precision. Evan reacted fast, attempting to deflect it with his sword, but the projectile was too fast, too forceful. It grazed his shoulder, tearing through the outer flesh. He stumbled back, gritting his teeth.

But Tess wasn’t done.

“[Rapid Shot]... [Wind’s Blessing]!”

A flurry of arrows exploded from her bow, each one trailing the hiss of wind magic. Evan’s expression darkened as he backed off, vanishing into the alley shadows with a flicker of movement.

[Shadow Leap].

The skill granted by a mini-boss in the Beast Grove Dungeon allowed him to meld with the darkness, becoming unseen to the naked eye. As the alley returned to silence, Tess stood her ground, bow drawn and eyes scanning every corner.

Seconds passed. Nothing.

Convinced the attacker had retreated, she cautiously approached Lucas, who lay groaning in pain. Blood soaked his side—his abdomen had taken a deep slash. Though his Dragon bloodline was healing him slowly, the blood loss could prove fatal.

She knelt beside him and reached for her phone to call Ilya.

And that was the moment Evan had been waiting for.

From the darkness, he struck.

[Shadow Bolt][Bone Fang Strike]

Two lethal projectiles soared from the shadows—one aimed for Lucas’s heart, the other at his throat. It was the same tactic he’d used countless times in the dungeon: a quick, double-strike surprise attack to finish his prey.

Lucas reacted first, raising a trembling hand.

A mana shield shimmered into being—fragile, incomplete, but just enough.

The [Shadow Bolt] shattered the shield, but the energy dissipated after impact. He gritted his teeth, his body screaming in protest from earlier wounds.

But he didn’t see the second strike.

The [Bone Fang Strike] came low, sneaking beneath the defense.

CRACK!

The sharp bone pierced through his hand.

“AAAAARRGHHH!!”

Lucas screamed, blood spraying from his palm as he dropped back.

“Lucas!!” Tess’s eyes flared with rage. Wind coiled around her bow as she activated a skill few below Level 50 had ever seen.

[Arrows of Whisperers]

Dozens of wind-imbued arrows formed in the air above her, each one humming with a resonance that echoed her fury.

With a flick of her fingers, the arrows rained down.

Evan, sensing death, had no choice.

“If I stay, I die.”

He emerged from the shadows, briefly revealing his masked form before vanishing again with [Shadow Leap].

“I WILL COME BACK, TO HARVEST YOUR SOUL, LUCAS! JUST WAIT FOR YOUR TURN!”

His voice echoed as he slipped into the darkness, disappearing before Tess’s arrows could fall again.

For a moment, silence returned.

Tess didn’t lower her bow. Not yet.

Only when several minutes passed—and the alley remained clear—did she finally kneel beside Lucas again, her hands trembling slightly.

Crowds soon gathered, drawn by the disturbance. Among them was Ilya, who rushed toward them with her party.

“Lucas?! What—?!”

She fell to her knees beside him and immediately began casting low-level healing spells. Her expression contorted with frustration—her magic wasn’t enough.

The ambulance was on its way. But Lucas, sensing the danger—and the opportunity—focused inward.

He had been waiting for a moment like this.

He looked at Ilya with half-lidded eyes, and something in him moved… clicked.

He needed her potential to awaken.

After all, Ilya was not a mere Healer.

She was the possessor of , a latent S-grade talent—one she herself had no idea she carried. Its passive effects granted defense, radiant healing, and light-based attack buffs. But hidden within it, as per the classified intel Lucas had uncovered, was the potential to evolve into SS or even SSS rank… if triggered under the right emotional and situational catalysts.

And this—this moment of desperation, pain, and purpose—was one such catalyst.

He closed his eyes and triggered the gambit.

He only hoped it would work…

——