Damon was in the lead, sword in hand, taking down every opponent with a single swing of its blade. The sword had the ability to induce disintegration on its target—body and soul. Damon himself had once been on the receiving end of its power. As for why his soul didn't break apart… he could take a guess. It was the armor of Pale Crown. It must have protected his soul with its power. They still didn't know what the ascendant armors were fully capable of, but they would find out eventually … they had smashed hundreds of skeletons. Slowly, with each victory, they came closer to vanquishing ten thousand foes. "Left…" Valarie's voice called out from his shoulders. Damon glanced at the pair of lips… that was all that remained of a once great champion… Damon jumped through a window—what was left of a ruined house. The house had no roof, bleak sunlight spilling from above. The ground was littered with broken bricks, fragments of walls, and mold. Shrubs and dry grass grew through the once polished floors… The others followed in after him. Xander grabbed a piece of the wreckage and threw it in the direction they came, crushing a few undead in the process. Damon glanced at Sylvia. "What are we dealing with… here…" Valarie's lips opened, interrupting. "He was once known as Thren, a young knight in Lysithara…" Damon nodded, glancing at Sylvia, who seemed to agree with her… He didn't ask Sylvia any further. Her skill was dangerous, and besides, Valarie seemed to know—or have known—him when he was alive. She continued, "I don't know what he had become due to the rot, but he uses tactics like this. It's his skill, as I mentioned earlier… it's called Grave Call…" Damon ran up the side of a broken wall, flipped, and jumped out a window, kicking an undead spearman in the chest mid-air. He narrowed his eyes, looking out from where he landed. He saw more and more undead… and worse, their commotion was growing louder. More types of creatures would be attracted by the noise… "Sylvia, what are we dealing with…" The elf girl fired a few arrows at the skeletons, her armor glowing faintly as its enchantment activated. "He's a rank two Mist Knight…" "Jump." Damon sighed, following Valarie's instruction as he leapt into a hole. He'd killed one Mist Knight before and almost lost an arm. Now he had to fight another one… and worse, he had to kill ten to level up… The others landed beside him on the ground floor. "Seal it off… now." Valarie's voice was hurried. Xander raised both hands, using gravity to lift nearby wreckage and slam it over the entrance, sealing the way and burying a few skeletons behind it. "Hurry, take the basement…" The basement in question was half-collapsed, mold-ridden and filled with a few rotting corpses… Sylvia narrowed her eyes, suspicious. "I can't help but think you're leading us astray…" Valarie's lips opened in surprise. "Why is that…" Damon sighed. "Because we're going the opposite way from our goal…" Valarie's lips froze. "Ohhh my goddess… I think I forgot the way… goodness, my apologies… I have a bad memory…" Damon gritted his teeth, watching as skeletons began to claw at the barricade of wreckage. "Damn… is this what we get for letting a pair of lips show us the way…" Xander smiled wryly. "She doesn't even have eyes…" Valarie chuckled. "Relax, children. I was just joking… there's a teleportation circle in the basement. That's assuming I got the right house…" Damon didn't hesitate. He dove into the half-shattered basement, shoving past debris—just as a hulking undead with three arms broke through the wall. Its body barely resembled a human anymore—more flesh than bone, a hideous, monstrous thing. The others didn't hesitate either. Matia blanketed it with a wave of ice weapons. They followed through, and Xander collapsed the passage behind them—the aftershock sinking part of the floor. Damon dropped—no, fell—down with it, covered in rocks and dust. He got up, dizzy, hearing the clatter of skeletons above the wreckage. He held Leona up. …Lucky she was wearing her helm. Avoiding head injury, she was fine. He wasn't so lucky… a mild concussion. He shook it off, grimacing, then checked to make sure everyone else was alright. He glanced at Xander. "I think you forgot to bury us alive." Xander winced. "Sorry. I underestimated these old structures…" Damon coughed slightly, brushing dust from his face. He looked around at the collapsed space. "Valarie, where to next…" The pair of lips had remained stuck to his shoulder, despite… everything. She coughed, somehow, even though she had no lungs or anything at all. "I'm a little dusty. Mind brushing me off…" Damon looked at the pair of lips. "I wouldn't touch you with a ten-foot pole…" "I'm on your shoulder…" He winced. "I can't help that…" Valarie's lips curled into a smile. She must've found him amusing. "Look for a lever—it's by your left…" Damon looked around, noticing a small lever hidden in the broken wall. He walked up to it. "Pull it down, then up… then up… then down…" Valarie gave the sequence, and he obeyed. Finally, the ground cracked open, revealing glowing runes. "Hehe," she smiled. "It still works… I wasn't certain…" Damon felt the urge to stomp her into the floor. She had risked their lives when she wasn't even sure. Then again, they didn't have many safer options. Perhaps meeting this discarnate soul, trapped in her own lips, was a stroke of good fortune. He couldn't be sure… but it was better than nothing. He stepped onto the circle of runes. "Memorize this rune, children. I'll quiz you on them later…" They teleported away—Valarie's voice taking on the tone of a teacher. As the light faded, they found themselves in an old room. Valarie's lips smiled. "Well, here we are… Zaci's Sweets is right across the street. And more than that… we now have the element of surprise on our side…"