“N-no... it’s nothing. No big deal.”

It really wasn’t. Ling lifted her chin at the stubborn door, wood calm as still water, and she wavered—kick like thunder, or pound like a drum?

“—Fireball!”

From behind, Alicia flicked a small fireball from her palm, a comet bead that curved past Ling and flew straight for the door.

It didn’t smash the eerie door like a hero shot. On impact, the blast melted into a steady shove, and the door swung open with the ease of a reed gate.

Now Ling got it. She’d been tugging at her side like a fool, while this door wanted the outside push. Pulling inward had been fishing on dry land.

But would Ling admit that? That was as impossible as the nightly news breaking into a grand finale.

She blanked her face, shed the memory like a snake skin, and slipped in first.

The room beyond was wide and bare, an empty field under a gray sky, no creature in sight.

Alicia saw Ling hurry, sent Edmund a sharp glance to follow, then pressed in on Ling’s heels, worry fluttering like moths.

Please, no traps... Her heart murmured a quick blessing, a lantern against fog.

Whoosh... whoosh...

As Alicia crossed the threshold, ripples spread across the vacant doorway, water rings on glass. Ling hadn’t seen it; Alicia felt it, a dip into cold water.

Her eyes wanted to shut, like lids pulled by tide, but this was enemy ground; closing them was courting death.

She blinked fast to steady herself—one blink, and the world flipped.

The room, empty moments ago, was crammed with bones, a white forest of moving Skeletons, joints clicking like rain on tiles.

Ling stood at Alicia’s side, no headlong charge, no pig-headed teammate stunt.

Her fingers moved on reflex, catching Ling’s small hand, warmth to anchor in a sea of skulls.

She feared the countless Undead, shadows flowing like ink, and assumed Ling would be scared too, so she held on to comfort both.

It wasn’t hopeless, though. These Skeletons weren’t attacking; their black socket-eyes stared like dead moons, but their blades stayed still.

Odd. By Jiu Jiu, the Dragon King maiden’s telling, the Undead were brutal—any living breath drew blood like a storm.

Strange or not, Alicia didn’t care to chase the why. With bones packed like reeds, she’d better lay traps while the lake was calm.

She rifled through light-type trap spells, memory pages fluttering like leaves. She picked “Holy Light Bamboozles You” and “Radiance Shines On All,” her favorites for this mess.

Her focus held tight like a drawn bow. She raised her ribbon-bound hand, and followed each step, detail neat as brushstrokes.

In her open palm, a small magic circle spun, a white lily about to bloom—the omen of release.

“Alicia, my master!!” Edmund’s voice boomed from the door, a drumbeat in a quiet temple.

His huge frame squeezed through, wood groaning like ice. He saw Alicia casting, called her name, and remembered to add “Master.”

The shout jolted her fear like a spooked horse. Her focus snapped, mana feed cut. The circle didn’t return the power—it dumped it.

Unfinished, the spell flared with blinding white, like dawn ripped open. Nearest Skeletons caught fire without flame, and crumbled to ash in three heartbeats.

The half-born magic dissolved into the air, a spark gone with the wind. Edmund ducked his head, guilt heavy as rain. “...Sorry.”

Apologies didn’t help. Alicia’s plan sank like a paper boat. The noise woke the bone forest; skulls turned as one, sightlines locked on her like arrowheads.

The no-damage, trap-first strat—gone. She sighed inside, a small wave against stone, but her mind moved fast, flipping to anti-Undead magic.

Her ribbon burned pure white again, a clean moonrise on her wrist. Deep in the Skeleton pack, a tiny black speck lifted its head.

Its hollow eyes fixed on Alicia, and its bone flute creaked in its grip, clenched tight like frost.