The fight fell into a brutal rhythm, a deadly dance between Colm and the Pitchcaller. The creature's every movement, swipe, and step was a calculated attempt to kill him; its focus was unrelenting.

Colm steeled himself, his muscles tense as he fought alongside his phantoms in a feverish onslaught. Their strikes came in rapid succession, forcing the Pitchcaller to weave and dodge with uncanny agility, denying it the opportunity to land a decisive blow. The battlefield became a chaotic symphony: the whistle of air from missed strikes, the determined grunts of effort, and the haunting, melodic whistles emanating from the creature.

Colm's attempts to activate his phantom abilities mid-battle, hoping to catch the Pitchcaller off guard, yielded no success. Time and time again, the Pitchcaller thwarted his surprise attacks. Blow after blow failed to connect, his strikes disrupted by the creature's inhuman reflexes and the strange whistling defense that bent the air itself.

Grunting in frustration, Colm managed to step back, giving his phantoms room to execute a coordinated salvo as the creature's focus on him waned. As the phantoms pressed the assault, Colm seized the moment to catch his breath and analyze the fight.

It's faster than me. Stronger, too, he thought grimly, his eyes narrowing. The only thing keeping this even is my numbers.

He replayed the encounter in his mind, piecing together what he had observed. It seems to have three abilities, as far as I can tell. His thoughts raced. The first is that piercing whistle it used to stun me and the phantoms. The second is the softer, melodic whistle that makes the surrounding air so dense that it forces attacks to veer off course. And the third…

Colm frowned, his mind zeroing in on the Pitchcaller's seemingly supernatural awareness. It's as if it can detect attacks the instant before they land. Maybe it's hearing something—a faint sound that gives it just enough warning to react? He shook his head. Damn, this thing is strong.

Before he could delve further, an arrow loosed by Robin streaked toward the creature. With a whistling tune, the Pitchcaller redirected the projectile mid-flight, sending it hurtling into Carver's chest. The strike triggered Spectral Persistence, causing the phantom warrior to dissolve into its faded form.

Even in this weakened state, Carver launched into an onslaught of blows, striking with reckless abandon. But the Pitchcaller remained unfazed, weaving effortlessly through the attacks. Its movements were fluid and precise, as if it were taunting them with its superiority.

Colm's jaw tightened as he refocused. If I don't figure out a way to break through soon, this fight is going to end badly. Especially if it can do that stun again. He thought as he activated his Phantom Warrior to bring Carver back into the fray. Trying to summon it atop the Pitchcaller for a surprise attack, to no avail.

Colm had an epiphany as he watched another arrow from Robin streak through the air toward the Pitchcaller. A soft hum and faint whoosh followed the arrow's flight, and then—just as it neared the creature, it once again veered off course. It is the sound, Colm realized, his eyes narrowing as the pieces clicked together.

Thinking quickly, Colm grabbed a handful of nearby stones. "Robin, fire the moment I throw," he commanded, his mind racing to test his theory. He steadied his breath, watching for an opening.

The Pitchcaller, dodging a vicious spear thrust from Lance, stumbled ever so slightly off balance. Now! Colm wound his arm back and, with all the enhanced strength he could muster, flung the stone directly at the creature.

The rock hurtled through the air with precision thanks to his dexterity, and not even a second later, Colm heard the faint whoosh of Robin's arrow trailing just behind it. As expected, the Pitchcaller let out a sharp whistle, diverting the rock with a shimmering distortion of the surrounding air.

But then, in the briefest of moments as the "air wall" faded from the rock's impact, the arrow followed through—uninterrupted. The Pitchcaller, focused on Carver and Lance's relentless assault, couldn't react in time. The arrow flew true, cutting through the narrow window of vulnerability.

Colm watched as if in slow motion. The Pitchcaller turned, its empty eye sockets locking on the arrow, but it was too late. The arrow pierced straight through the creature's back, exiting with a straight through to the other side.

The beast staggered, letting out a shrill whistle that cracked into silence as its movements faltered. For the first time in the fight, Colm saw a weakness.

The creature stood momentarily stunned by the blow, giving Colm's phantoms an opening to press the attack. As the fight resumed, something had changed. The Pitchcaller's movements shifted—it was no longer toying with them. Its intent was clear. It wanted the battle over.

Colm's eyes locked on the creature's face, and he felt a chill run down his spine. Its mouth twisted into an otherworldly grin, skin stretched tight over its jagged teeth. Then, with a sharp, piercing whistle, the surrounding air vibrated with an almost physical force.

Shit. Colm clutched his head as his vision blurred, the sound piercing his skull like a thousand needles. Pain shot through him, clouding his thoughts. I can fight through this—it's just some pain, he told himself, gritting his teeth. With immense effort, he forced his eyes open, blinking away the haze. A notification flickered in his vision, and he swiped it away instinctively.

[ Skill Acquired ]

Stun Resistance (Level 1) - Allows the user to better resist stun effects and recover more quickly.

That explains why I recovered much faster this time around, Colm thought. His gaze snapped back to the battlefield, just in time to see the creature take advantage of his momentary delay from the stun.

The Pitchcaller moved with terrifying speed, tearing through Lance, whose form had already flickered into Spectral Persistence. Lance's strikes in this weakened state barely scratched the creature, and Carver wasn't faring much better as the creature was upon the warrior with its clawed hand through its chest.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"Not good," Colm muttered, activating his Phantom Spearman ability to re-materialize Lance behind the creature. Without hesitation, he reactivated Phantom Warrior, bringing Carver back into the fight. As a sound of rushing wind flew past his head, Colm noticed Robin's arrows once again taking aim, their form no longer hindered. Looks like that skill helped Robin recover too, he noted mentally.

The sudden reappearance of the phantoms surprised the Pitchcaller as it expected its foes to be incapacitated longer. In a desperate maneuver, it twisted to avoid Lance's spear but wasn't quick enough; the thrust tore into its side. Right as an arrow from Robin struck true, embedding itself deep into the creature's shoulder.

The creature staggered momentarily but quickly reoriented itself, its hollow eye sockets locking onto Colm. It gave up any pretense of fighting the phantoms once again and refocused on the true threat, bursting into a dead sprint straight for him.

"Shit," Colm hissed, his grip tightening on his spear. The creature's intent was clear—it would not stop, no matter how many blows it took along the way. Even as Lance and Carver struck at its sides, and Robin's arrows rained down, the Pitchcaller pushed forward, undeterred, its sole focus on Colm. "Well, there goes my plan." Colm grumbled as the creature gave him no room to repeat the earlier trick he pulled.

The flurry of blows resumed, and the Pitchcaller's renewed fury kept Colm firmly on the defensive. Each strike came faster and harder than the last, forcing him to focus entirely on staying alive. As the relentless barrage continued, Colm attempted to block a vicious swipe with his spear—only to hear the unmistakable crack of wood snapping.

The weapon splintered in two, leaving him with little more than broken halves in his hands.

Well, Colm thought dryly, that spear lasted longer than I expected.

Without missing a beat, he adjusted his grip, wielding both fragments as makeshift weapons. As if the system had been waiting for this moment, a notification flashed into his vision.

[ Skill Acquired ]

Dual Wielding (Level 1) - Allows the user to adeptly use two one-handed weapons.

"Shut it," Colm growled, swiping the notification away. There was no time for snark—not now.

The battle raged on, a cacophony of swings, whistles, and heavy breathing keeping Colm's senses razor-sharp. The reduced reach of his broken spear only widened the gap in power between him and the Pitchcaller. As the creature pressed its advantage, drawing closer with each swipe. One narrow swing came so close that Colm felt the sharp wind from its claws graze his cheek. Too close.

Sweat dripped down his brow as he fell into a rhythm, dodging and weaving through the onslaught. His muscles ached, and his mind raced, knowing that a single misstep would mean the end.

The pressure mounted as Robin loosed another arrow toward the Pitchcaller. Colm heard the expected whistle, ready for the deflection. But to his shock, the arrow tore straight through the creature, embedding itself in its side.

His eyes widened in disbelief. It didn't deflect it?!

Before he could process what had changed, a sharp, searing pain sliced across his cheek and down his neck. The creature's claw had found its mark, catching him just as he thought he'd moved out of range.

Reeling from the sudden blow, Colm faltered. His mistimed step back sent him tumbling onto his back, the realization hitting him like a punch to the gut. It enhanced its range using that air shield. It hid that ace up its sleeve and it lured me in!

The pain was sharp and disorienting, but there was no time to recover. The Pitchcaller was already on top of him pinning him down, its clawed hand pulled back, charged with deadly intent.

Colm's heart pounded as he watched the creature grin, savoring its victory. Time seemed to slow as it thrust its hand forward, aiming for his chest. Shit, this is it, Colm thought, as he struggled to break free from the creature's grasp.

But as his doom closed in, something shifted in the corner of his vision—a brightly blue glowing spectral blade slicing through the air with deadly precision.

Carver's swing connected, sending a shockwave reverberating through the area, cleaving cleanly through the creature's neck. The Pitchcaller's head separated from its body, the grin still etched onto its face as it tumbled to the ground.

Colm blinked, his vision blurring as adrenaline and exhaustion overwhelmed him. He let out a shaky breath, his voice hoarse as he muttered through sputtering breaths, "That was too close."

Pitchcaller (Level 80) Defeated. Experience Gained. Bonus experience granted for defeating a higher level enemy.

Level Up! +5 Stat Points Available.

Level Up! +5 Stat Points Available.

Level Up! +5 Stat Points Available.

Level Up! +5 Stat Points Available.

Level Up! +5 Stat Points Available.

Level Up! +5 Stat Points Available.

New class abilities available.

Barely able to glance at the notifications, Colm's mind raced, one sensation overwhelmed all others. I feel… so cold, he thought, his breath shaky. Slowly, he looked up and saw the body of the Pitchcaller still sitting atop him, lifeless and unmoving. Colm's gaze followed the form of its outstretched arm and he saw its hand piercing deep into his own chest, all the while one glaring notification creeped out of the corner of his vision.

You have been infected.

Well, fuck, Colm thought, his mind hazy and slipping as he felt his hit points plummet from the damage. Desperation clawed at him as he slammed all his points into constitution, hoping to buy himself a few more moments. His vision blurred at the edges, darkness creeping in, but he forced himself to focus.

There has to be something, he thought frantically, pulling up his list of new class abilities, already feeling the tug of the infection chip away at him while Lingering Vitality was fighting a losing battle as it tried to combat both the infection and the gaping hole in his chest. He scanned through the list, his heart pounding. Anything—anything at all that can help.

His hands trembled as he scrolled, each second feeling like an eternity as he searched for one last edge before he lost consciousness.

New class abilities available.

Select a new Class Passive Ability.

Passive Ability: Phantom's Lifeline (Level 1)

Your soul is strengthened by the spirit realm, deepening your connection with your phantoms. Each time a phantom lands a successful critical hit, you regenerate 2% of your maximum health.

Passive Ability: Spiritual Shield (Level 1)

The spirit realm recognizes your worth and grants its protection. You gain a spectral shield equal to 10% of your maximum health, replenished slightly each time a phantom deals damage.

Passive Ability: Death's Echo (Level 1)

Upon defeating an enemy, there is a 50% chance to summon a temporary wraith that attacks nearby foes for 10 seconds before vanishing. The wraith is intangible and can attack with spectral magic and inflict status effects to hamper the enemy.

Passive Ability: Phantom Synergy (Level 1)

When two or more phantoms are active simultaneously, you gain a 5% increase to all stats and you gain a 3% increase in movement speed for each phantom currently summoned.

Passive Ability: Phantom Sacrifice (Level 1)

When you take fatal damage, your nearest active phantom absorbs the blow, sacrificing itself to save you. The phantom is destroyed, and you are left with 10% of your maximum health. Requires at least one phantom to be active and has a 60-minute cooldown and the sacrificed phantom cannot be summoned during the cooldown duration.

Colm didn't hesitate the moment he saw Phantom Sacrifice. Without a second thought, he selected it hoping it would be enough. His vision blurred, then faded into complete darkness.

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