Flowers sprouted from Rosacer's shattered face.
Petals tore through broken bone and ruined flesh, blooming where eyes and cheeks had existed only moments before. Their stems burrowed deep into his skull, stitching themselves together as they writhed and intertwined at the base, driven by a desperate instinct for revival. The growth was frantic and uneven, a grotesque mockery of life.
Soon, the flowers withered. They crumbled into black powder that fell softly to the ground.
Then the powder began to move.
It swept and crawled around Rosacer's broken body, coiling upward to form a sluggish, obstructive veil. The shroud attempted to ward off any interference.
Even if Darious had wanted to, he couldn't stop it—the air around Rosacer's body was foul, heavy, and maddening. If he had tried, he might have already lost his mind. Luckily, his instincts saved him.
But the defense wasn't that strong.
Too many resurrections had taken their toll. The powder no longer pulsed with power and strength, only with the memory of the purpose it once served.
It drifted apart with ease, struggling to hold form—its purpose still recalled, but its vitality slipping away.
If not for Darious's weakened state, he might have had a chance to attack and foil the resurrection, even if only to delay it.
But he did not wait to do so. He was already at death's door. Instead, he fled.
Adrenaline still surged through his veins, amplified by the genetic advantages of his tribe. He did not look back. He stumbled repeatedly, falling to the ground more than once, yet he continued. When he could no longer walk, he crawled, dragging himself out of sight of the immortal man behind him.
"One day, I will kill you, monster," he whispered into the deafening mist before vanishing within it.
Thirty minutes passed.
At last, Rosacer was resurrected.
He opened his eyes. No one stood before him.
"Fighting monsters is easier than fighting humans," he muttered under his breath, scratching the back of his head.
He felt a trace of disappointment at the outcome, but it was better to learn this lesson sooner rather than later, he told himself.
"What now?" he exhaled.
With Darious gone, there was no way to force the old man to reveal Katrina's whereabouts. He turned to the System and demanded Darious's location, but the System did not respond.
"Thought so."
His only chance had slipped away. By all logic, he should have given up.
But he did not.
He had prepared a contingency.
Rosacer raised his hand and issued a command to the System, summoning his servant.
Arcis.
She emerged into the world with black hair and fierce crimson eyes.
The System issued an alert.
[Remaining time: 10 seconds.]
Without hesitation, Rosacer ordered her to hunt down Darious, kill him, and return with his corpse.
Arcis nodded. She vanished into the mist, followed by a wailing cry that echoed from beyond it.
"I only hope Jaka's soldiers do not track me down because of this," Rosacer muttered.
Before the ten seconds elapsed, Arcis returned. She dropped Darious's lifeless body at Rosacer's feet, then disappeared once more into her nightmare realm.
Without hesitation, Rosacer activated Corpse Memory on the body before him. The clothes Darious had left behind in the chemist's shop would serve as evidence and proof.
A memory surged before his eyes.
[A man with no one to look for him tries desperately to be noticed. When at last, he draws their attention, but he finds those gazes repulsive and gouges out those eyes. As he laughs menacingly, dark crevices and wrinkles carve themselves into his face. Then, suddenly, he senses something and turns back.
A monster stands behind him.
Its eyes are as dark as the night. He attempts to kill it, only to be met with a bouquet of flowers.
The memory ends.]
Just as he had suspected, Corpse Memory did not reveal a complete recollection of the dead. It functioned more as a condensed summary of a life, presenting only the subject's nature and the circumstances they had faced, rather than a full record of their memories.
"I will examine its usage later," he said, moving toward the dark knife he had thrown aside before the fistfight.
He picked it up and requested further information from the System.
The System responded.
[Item Type: Dagger]
[Basic Daken Knife: A Daken knife forged from the bones of Marach demons. Upon mana injection, demonic poison surges through the blade.]
[Class: Awareness]
[Ability: Demonic Draught]
[Demonic Draught: A toxin that creates ruptures within muscle and bone, dissolving them into a viscous, slimy paste.]
As the description concluded, the corpse collapsed. Flesh liquefied into sludge and was absorbed during corpse memory, leaving only a bare skeleton behind.
Rosacer could use Blight Burn only twice per day, and he had already exhausted its charge. Burning the remains would have to wait. For the moment, he stored the skeleton inside his inventory, intending to dispose of it later.
Without wasting further time, he hurried back toward the chemist's shop to retrieve the evidence.
At the entrance, he encountered Christopher.
In Christopher's hand were half-burnt clothes.
"Looking for this?" he said, tossing them toward Rosacer. "I would have charged extra, but it seems you have already had a rough day. Consider it on the house, for now."
"And do not forget to pay for that little assistance," he added.
With that, Christopher turned and disappeared back into the depths of his shop, swallowed by its darkness.
Rosacer stood there in silence, the smell of burnt fabric and skin lingering in the air.
In another part of the Eastern Sector, a temple constructed entirely from rose petals stood in solemn silence. Within its walls, a man tailed his quarry. He was a bounty hunter.
His target was the Rogue Knight, Marcus Leo.
The hunter watched as his target entered a private room, the door left conspicuously unlocked. He did not hesitate. He loaded his gun and charged inside, emptying the chamber as he advanced.
When the smoke finally cleared, the room was empty.
Confusion gripped him. He turned at once, intending to flee before the guards arrived.
Before he could take a single step, a voice spoke behind him.
"So, what was the plan, anyway?"
Marcus Leo stood there, directly behind him.