DCD - B3 - Chapter 52 - A Completed Vengeance

After the battle, everything settled down.

Mr. Bones’ body was repaired. Veylar’s connection to Enya weakened, and both he and Beatrice returned to the underworld. Pell, meanwhile, dragged Asvizer’s and Amberdean’s bodies toward the center of the ruined courtyard. He pocketed any artifacts they had and shoved them into his inventory. This included Amberdean’s sets of rings, and a few other trinkets the Godsworn had on him.

The spires of bone Enya had created were already beginning to dissipate, the mana forming them losing its hold as the spell unraveled.

Pell purchased a shovel and dug two shallow graves for the men. He tossed Asvizer into one—and was about to toss Amberdean into the other.

But he stopped.

Instead, he kicked Amberdean’s body into the same pit, the two corpses landing atop one another.

“Bastard doesn’t deserve his own grave,” Pell muttered as he filled the second hole back in. As for the first, he didn’t bother. He left it open—an exposed grave, rooted in plain view for anyone to look into.

He purchased a small wooden sign and a pen and wrote on it.

Here lies the bastard Amberdean. His pastimes include kidnapping children, preferably nobles. He was a sick, twisted man. The other guy is some other bastard who called himself a Godsworn and helped take the kidnapped children.

He planted the sign at the edge of the pit and left them there.

Afterward, Enya, Elria, and Mr. Bones followed Pell back to Amberdean’s mansion. The place was in ruins, much of the first and second floors having collapsed entirely.

For several minutes, Pell searched through the wreckage until he found a set of stairs leading downward. They followed them, passing a wine cellar before reaching a room that contained a vault.

It was the man’s wealth—locked away inside a single metal box.

Pell slashed at it with his harvester. It took several attempts, sparks flying with each strike, but eventually the lock gave way.

Inside were important documents: deeds to his estate, correspondence with other nobles, tax records, and records of transactions. Alongside them was the remainder of his actual wealth.

Eighteen platinum coins, tucked into a small bag within the safe.

The illusion talisman at this point had already begun to fray. The large area of effect from the item began to dissipate, slowly unraveling the world back to reality. From the outside, it was like a mirage clearing up, misty clouds washing away.

It was still night time, so not many people were out. But it wouldn’t be long until people woke up.

They’d notice the aftermath of their fight here. A destroyed courtyard. A wrecked mansion. Broken stone, collapsed floors, and lingering embers. People would notice.

They needed to leave.

But not before one last thing—something that Pell needed to do.

And that—was to find Elara.

They all left the estate, moving in tow toward the forest.

It was quiet.

Not the kind of quiet that felt empty, but the kind that settled in once something violent had passed through and moved on. Leaves stirred gently overhead, branches creaking faintly as the wind threaded its way through the trees.

Pell stopped where Amberdean had said she would be.

There was no marker.

No stone. No name carved into wood. No sign that anyone had ever bothered to care. Just a patch of earth that looked slightly different from the rest—darker, looser, disturbed once and never properly put back.

Pell stared at it for a long time.

“This is it,” he said quietly.

He didn’t kneel right away.

For a moment, he thought about digging. Just to be sure. Just to see. But the thought turned his soul-flames heavy and dull, sinking low in his chest.

He didn’t want that to be how he remembered her.

Elara wasn’t dirt. She wasn’t bones. She wasn’t what Amberdean had reduced her to.

She had been warm. Caring. Annoyingly optimistic at times. Always worrying about him when he didn’t deserve it. Always believing he’d come back better than when he left.

Pell swallowed the chilly air, having it flow through his bones.

He opened his marketplace and bought a small bundle of flowers. Nothing extravagant. White petals, thin stems, the kind you might find growing wild at the edge of a road. He knelt this time, placing them gently on the ground, careful not to disturb the soil beneath.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

The words came out rough, like they’d been waiting too long.

“I kept telling myself I’d come back. That once I had enough money, enough strength, I’d fix everything.” His voice wavered, just slightly. “I thought I was doing it for us.”

His fingers curled into the dirt.

“I left you alone,” he said quietly. “And I wasn’t there when you needed me.”

For a while, he said nothing more. Just knelt there, staring at the flowers, soul-flames dimmed low enough they barely flickered.

“I wanted revenge,” he admitted. “I told myself that was all I needed. That if I paid him back for what he did, it’d make things right.”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t.”

The forest quelled, just to listen to him. Everyone else stood several meters back, letting Pell speak. No one else said a word.

“I’m too late,” Pell said. “No matter what I do, I can’t change what happened to you.”

His shoulders sagged. “But… I’m still here.”

That realization settled strangely in his chest. It was a heavy burden, but not a crushing one.

“I met a kid,” he said after a moment. “She’s… trouble. Smart. Too curious for her own good.” A faint huff of breath escaped him—almost a laugh. “Never thought I’d be adventuring with a child. Never thought I’d want to.”

He looked down at the flowers again.

“I used to hate kids,” he admitted. “They reminded me of everything I didn’t have. Everything I lost.”

His voice softened.

“You probably know that, though. But… but she’s different. She reminds me that I didn’t have to turn out the way I did. Just pure innocence wrapped in the body of a small gremlin.” He chuckled softly.

Pell then took a slow breath.

“I can’t save you,” he said. “But I can make sure other kids don’t end up like me. Or like her.” His hand tightened briefly. “I’ll build something. An orphanage. A real one. A place where they don’t have to be scared. Where they don’t get used or thrown away.”

He nodded to himself, as if sealing the promise.

“Just like you did,” he said quietly. “Just like your mother did.”

For the first time since arriving, Pell felt something ease inside him.

Not peace. But direction. Almost like a purpose. A new life goal.

Revenge was something he needed. But it didn’t buy him any closure. It simply calmed one of his long time regrets. Only to make him realize who big the others truly were.

“I love you, Elara.”

The words came out easily. Yet the hardest thing was not hearing anything back.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you that in person.”

Pell straightened, brushing dirt from his knee bones. He lingered for a moment before turning away.

“I’ll keep going,” he said softly. “For both of us.”

He went back to the others. The flowers remained behind, half buried into the soil so that they wouldn’t fly away.

This was the final entry to the largest chapter of Pell’s life. And right now—it was only the introduction.

⬥⬥⬥

Everyone regrouped a short distance away from the forest’s edge.

Mr. Bones stood nearby, motionless as ever, half-turned toward the trees as if keeping watch. Elria hovered in the same place, waiting. Enya sat on a fallen stone, legs together, hands folded, pristine and neatly, in her lap.

Pell joined them without a word at first.

He stopped near Enya, glanced at her, then looked past them toward the ruined estate barely visible through the trees.

“…Alright,” he said finally. “We need to figure out what comes next.”

Elria tilted in the air. “What comes next is leaving,” she said. “Soon.”

Pell nodded. “I figured.”

She folded her wings briefly, her tone sharpening. “That vision we saw wasn’t just some random future. Those two—whatever they were—they tore open space like it was paper. And they didn’t hesitate once they locked onto something below.”

Her gaze flicked to Enya.

“If they’re tracking godly signatures,” Elria continued, “then yes. They’re probably coming for her.”

Pell frowned slightly and turned to Enya. “Hey. Enya.”

For just a moment, Enya didn’t respond. Not long enough to be alarming. But long enough to be noticeable.

Her eyes were unfocused, lips moving silently, as if she hadn’t realized she’d been addressed. She was murmuring to herself, possibly humming a song.

“Enya” Pell repeated.

The murmuring stopped.

She blinked. “Huh? Oh—sorry. What did you need?”

“That skill you used,” he said. “The one with the tiara and the misty eyes. What exactly is it?”

Enya smiled nervously, not sure how to answer. “It’s uh… just a skill the system gave me. I don’t really know. I just happened to use it.”

Pell studied her for a second, then sighed. “That Necrosmith class of yours—so stubbornly mysterious for no reason.”

Enya smiled nervously, unsure how to answer. “It’s, uh… just a skill the system gave me. I don’t really know. I just happened to use it.”

Pell studied her for a second, then sighed. “That Necrosmith class of yours—so stubbornly mysterious for no reason.”

Enya smiled back and offered a sheepish apology.

“It’s a skill that uses godly power,” Elria said. “Power above the system. Now that she’s used it, those Godsworns will start coming to find her.” She crossed her fly arms. “We need to get out of here fast. Preferably to another layer. They should only be able to trace her to this point, and nowhere beyond it.”

Pell wasn’t exactly sure what to make of all the Godsworn business. He’d thought they were just religious fanatics, but they seemed far more dangerous than he’d assumed.

“The nearest ascension crystal should be in Shallwick,” he said. “But it’ll take nearly five days to get there, even with a skeletal horse.”

The two of them continued discussing options, weighing the risks. They needed to decide quickly.

That was when Enya raised her hand.

Both of them turned toward her.

“What?” Pell asked.

“Uh… if we need to get somewhere,” Enya said, “I can teleport us.”

“You can what?” Pell asked.

She nodded eagerly, clearly proud. “Teleport. To the nearest ascension crystal. I just need the coordinates.”

Elria narrowed her bug-like eyes. “Since when? You’ve never mentioned having teleportation abilities.”

“Yeah,” Pell added, staring at Enya. “First time you’ve mentioned it.”

Enya tilted her head. “Uh, well… I think I got it just now. A few minutes ago.”

A low hum came from Pell’s jaw. “Hm. You actually got a teleport skill from leveling up?” He frowned. “I gained a lot of experience killing those guards and the Godsworn, but there’s still the experience penalty.”

Elria watched Enya closely for a second longer than Pell did, her wings slowing nearly to a stop. Then she looked away. “If she can really do it, that solves the problem.”

Pell exhaled. “You’re sure you can pull it off?”

Enya nodded quickly. “Yeah. I just need the coordinates. As long as it’s close enough—and I have enough mana.”

Pell nodded and opened his marketplace. He found a small map brochure of the First Layer that listed spatial coordinates for each major city. He purchased it and handed it to Enya.

“Shallwick’s coordinates should be in there,” he said. “If you can teleport us, then let’s go.”

Elria buzzed around him. “You sure you’re done with this desolate place? No more friends or family to see? You did come all this way, after all.”

Pell shook his head. “I’m done. There’s nothing here but lingering ghosts.” He paused. “I don’t think Gaius lives here anymore, and I’m not about to go looking while we’ve got assassins potentially on our trail.”

Enya took the map and studied the coordinates. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll start the teleport.”

She folded the map into her dress and knelt, placing her palm flat against the dirt. Mana began to flow as a large spell circuit formed beneath them, nearly six meters wide.

Mana: 13049/14500
Mana: 11286/14500
Mana: 8262/14500
Mana: 3773/14500

Slowly, the power builtt up in the spell circuit, glowing immensely. Even Pell felt a kind of pressure standing above it.

“Okay, here we go.” Enya activated her spell and the world flashed before them.

The world folded inward, pressure building for a brief, breathless moment—then released.

Stone replaced dirt beneath their feet.

They stood inside a circular chamber of polished white marble, runes carved in concentric rings across the floor. At its center rose a crystalline pillar, tall and faceted, glowing softly with layered light. Mana hummed through the room in a steady, regulated rhythm.

An ascension crystal.

A man seated at a nearby desk jerked upright so fast his chair scraped loudly across the floor.

“What the—!”

Seeing visitors suddenly appear at the ascension crystal wasn’t uncommon. However—that’s not what made the man stand up in shock.

His eyes locked onto Pell. Then Enya. Then onto Mr. Bones, the giant skeletal knight.

“W-what? How—!”

Pell realized his mistake and opened his inventory immediately. He put his hand up, signaling the man to calm down. Out of his inventory, he took the monster taming collar and placed it around his neck.

“Relax. I’m a tamed summon,” Pell said flatly. “Minions, to be precise.”

The man froze, staring at the collar as it flared briefly with system confirmation. “…Ah.”

He swallowed, straightening his robes with trembling hands. “R-right. Of course. Summons are permitted if properly restrained.”

His gaze shifted upward.

“…The larger one doesn’t have a collar,” he added, voice tightening again. “That’s a clear violation of ascension protocol.”

Pell followed his gaze to the noble skeletal knight, then sighed.

“We’re not staying,” he said flatly. “Send us up. Second layer.”

The man hesitated. “I—I can’t.”

Pell blinked. “What?”

The attendant shook his head. “Second layer ascension is closed. Has been for a while now.”

“Closed?” Pell repeated. “Since when?”

“I don’t know,” the man admitted, clearly uncomfortable. “No one does. Orders came down without explanation. All requests are being denied.”

Pell pinched the bridge of his skull. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Elria buzzed upward to head level. “Then go higher,” she said. “Third or fourth layer.”

It was only then, did the man notice that there was a speaking fly. His eyebrows knit upwards like he was watching a jester’s performance.

Pell groaned. “The third layer’s a war zone. Demons, monsters, unstable territory—no thanks.” He turned back to the man. “What’s the fee for the fourth layer?”

“Fourth layer is thirty platinum,” he said evenly.

Pell froze.

“…Thirty,” he echoed.

That was almost everything.

Even after looting Amberdean’s vault, even after scraping together every last coin, that would leave them with barely two or three platinum to their name.

Pell looked physically pained. Almost like he could die again.

Elria crossed her fly arms. “You’ve got items you can sell,” she said. “Those guys had a lot of loot. Just pay now and get the money back later. We’re kind of on the clock.”

Pell grunted, but she had a point.

“Fine.”

He took out a bag with 30 platinum coins and handed it over to the man. He took it carefully and counted it twice over. “Alright. That’s 30 coins. I’ll send you up to the fourth layer.”

He turned toward the crystal and began the activation sequences, the runes below all of them lighting up.

Enya looked up at Pell and smiled. “Don’t worry! 30 platinum isn’t a lot at all.”

He looked down at her. “What do you mean—not a lot. That’s literally all of our wealth at this point.”

“Oh—it is?” Enya asked sheepishly.

Pell sighed.

The room flashed and the ascension crystal activated, warping space once more.