Jack felt his power drain away. Quickly. He needed to make a desperate gamble. A high bet to quell the chaos.
He gritted his non-existent teeth. He would bet everything. On one last, earth-shattering performance.
It was time to start the show.
He concentrated. He summoned every last dreg of his energy. He pulled it all into his [Banshee's Requiems]. Cranking up its power to the max. And even higher.
This wouldn't just be a scream. It would be a great symphony of terror. A work of art designed to shatter minds.
He unleashed his masterpiece... His twisted, personal rendition of the 'Devil's Trill Sonata'.
The notes were warped and contorted. The sweet melody was poisoned with demonic whispers. The frantic thump of a dying heart echoed through the air. And a chorus of nameless, unidentifiable voices clawed at the edges of sanity.
It was a sonic weapon. It was a psychological bomb. Designed to break everything it touched.
The lizardmen, Grando's cursed lackeys, were the first to fall. The symphony ripped through their altered minds. It tore apart the forced transformation.
One by one, they reverted. And then, they collapsed to the ground. In their human form. Unconscious and shuddering.
Jack was now on the brink of exhaustion. He turned his attention to the remaining threats. The five werewolves and the Eldritch Warlock, Escroll Oreleyson.
He focused the hellish nightmare symphony on them. It was a concentrated blast of pure terror.
The werewolves were already struggling against the residual effects of his initial onslaught. They tried harder to resist. Snarling and clawing at their heads.
But the symphony was relentless. It was an unstoppable force of psychic destruction. One by one, they succumbed. They collapsed into furry heaps. And then reverted back into human forms. The curse was momentarily subdued.
Then, it was a deafening silence. The requiem ended. Jack's power vanished. He was now weak. Helpless. And barely able to maintain his spectral form. He was a spent firework.
Escroll, however, remained standing. He was battered and was back in his human form. His face was twisted in pain. His breaths ragged. But he was still standing. His eyes burned with a furious hatred. The symphony damaged him. But it hadn't broken him.
But then, there was a flash of steel.
A knife. Stained with blood and desperation. It pierced Escroll's heart from behind.
The warlock gasped. His eyes widened in shock as he looked down. At the protruding blade tip.
Grando stood behind him. His face was contorted in a grotesque parody of a snarl. The knife was still clutched in his trembling hand.
"I'm… not pathetic... Uncle!" He rasped. But then, his eyes glazed over. And he slumped to the ground. Dead.
Escroll followed him moments later. His body hit the earth with a heavy thud. The powerful Eldritch Warlock was dead. Killed by his own nephew.
Jack looked at what happened. Confused. He had unconsciously excluded Grando from his nightmare attack. He was a dying man after all.
But, what the hell happened? Why the hell did Grando kill his uncle? Just because the word he previously said? Or did they have deeper grudge?
Jack wanted to find the answer. But he was completely drained. Unable to move. Unable to talk. He could only watch as the last vestiges of the chaos subsided. It was, at least, over.
Suddenly, he felt a gentle pressure. Johnny's spectral hand was pressed against Jack's flickering form. It was shimmering with ghostly energy.
He could feel Johnny's energy flowing into him. It was a jolt of ethereal power that reignited his fading energy.
"Johnny?"
"Your job isn't done yet, is it? The curse, Jack!" Johnny said. His voice was a faint whisper. "Take the curses from those poor bastards. Please!"
Jack nodded weakly. He was still very weak and disoriented. But he could move.
He floated towards the unconscious werewolves. They were now in human forms. But for him, they were still werewolves.
As he touched the first werewolf, a notification flashed before his eyes.
[PARASITIC POWER DISCOVERED!]
[NOT ENOUGH POWER INTENSITY. ABSORBED AND CONDENSED INTO ARTIFACT SEED.]
It worked. The curse could be absorbed into artifact seed. He had three seeds so far. How many seeds would it be needed to crate a complete artifact?
He didn't know. But he knew more seeds wouldn't hurt. Thus, he continued, touching the next werewolves. Each time, the same message appeared. The curse was absorbed, condensed, and stored within him as an artifact seed.
But when he touched the last werewolf, Zeker, the notification was different.
[ASSIMILATED POWER DISCOVERED!]
[INVALID. UNABLE TO BE ABSORBED.]
Jack furrowed his non-existent eyebrows. This one was different. He could feel that the curse wasn't simply dwelling inside his body.
It had become a part of him. It had been interwoven with his very being. It was no longer a parasitic force. It was an intrinsic part of his existence.
Helpless, Jack turned back to Johnny. He noticed that the burly ghost was now talking to a small group of miners. And those people... didn't seem to look afraid at all. Talking to a ghost.
He observed them. An old man with a weathered face. Two burly men. And a tough-looking child.
He floated over to them. Johnny beamed. "Jack, Bro! This here's Old Diggle, the most respected of the miners. And these are my brothers, Jimmy and Jojo. And this little one is my boy, Rocky."
Jack nodded his faceless head at the people. "I've… dealt with the immediate threat. Four of the miners were now free from the curse. But, the last one. The one you call Zeker is different. He had become one with the curse. I can't dispel it."
Old Diggle's face hardened. "Damn that Zeker! Always was a bad egg."
He turned to some miners nearby. "Alright, lads! Don, Chade, Paol! Chain him up tight! Get the strongest chains we got!"
Looking at another miner, he continued. "Kolle. Ride to the Church of Redemption on the other side of town. Report this. Let them come to deal with him."
Johnny turned to Jack. His face etched with relief.
"Thank you, Jack. You did good. Real good. Now I can leave in peace." He said, a faint smile on his face.
Then, he turned to Old Diggle, his brothers, and his son. "Goodbye, everyone. Take care of yourselves. I'll be waiting on the other side."
And then, Johnny began to fade away. His form became more and more translucent. His voice became a whisper on the wind. He was finally at peace. Finally ready to move on.
As Johnny disappeared completely, Jack felt a strange sensation. Another ghost 'friend' of him was gone. The memory of a ghost girl flashed in his mind. Linna. Now, Johnny.
Jack then saw something that drew him away from the scene. He too, just like Johnny, disappeared from everyone's view. He became invisible.
But he had a different reason. It was not like Johnny, moving on to the afterlife. It was simply because... a new system notification had appeared. Demanding his attention.
[LEVEL UP!]
[AVAILABLE NEW EVOLUTION FOR FORMLESS GHOST] CHOOSE ONE:
[JOLLY SPECTER]
[RAGING SPECTER]
[WEEPING SPECTER]
[AMOROUS SPECTER]
[CRAZY SPECTER]
[MYSTERIOUS SPECTER]
Jack blinked. The system notification was still there. Hanging in the smoky air of Ironpile Town.
'Evolution? Specter?' he thought. Questions immediately popped out in his mind. 'Why specter? Isn't that, like, basically the same thing as a ghost? Is this some kind of spectral rebranding? Trying to make me sound less… common?'
He scanned the options. His non-existent eyebrows furrowing.
Jolly Specter? Was he supposed to become some kind of… happy-go-lucky poltergeist? Friendly ghost that joined in tea parties and birthday celebration? Making others laugh in joy and happiness? What the hell?
Raging Specter? It somehow conjured images of a perpetually pissed-off phantom. Smashing things into pieces for the sheer hell of it. Would this give him more destructive power? It would be good if that was the case.
Weeping Specter? Absolutely not. He didn't mind getting [Banshee's Requiems] as a supernatural trait. But he definitely wasn't about to become a mournful, wailing banshee wannabe. Jolly Specter would even be preferable than this choice.
Amorous Specter? What the hell of a choice was this? Would he be a kind of spectral incubus? Some kind of ghostly stalking voyeur? One with the power to induce romantic feeling and lust? No way!
Crazy Specter? The thought sent a shiver down his non-existent spine. Being a horror creature had already forced him to flirt with the edge of sanity. A full-blown crazy evolution probably wouldn't end well for him.
Mysterious Specter? This one seemed cool. It could definitely work for him. The word 'mysterious' implied intrigue. Secret. Subtlety. A hint of the unknown. This choice should be the type of creature with less 'raw power' and more… finesse.
So, which one should he choose? The only redeemable choices for him among the six would just be Raging Specter and Mysterious Specter.