No! I don't want to be a Super Necromancer!

From the very first step into the lightning-infused region, Damien knew he had entered a realm that demanded more than just endurance. He had no natural resistance to lightning.

Unlike fire and ice, which had gradually lost their bite against his body, the lightning struck without mercy and tore into his flesh with primal ferocity.

Crack - Boom!

Crack!! Boom!!

It was pain, raw and sharp, each bolt a hammerblow against his bones, each arc a reminder that this step in the inheritance was not meant to be endured passively.

And yet, Damien endured.

His body, already fortified through the extraordinary effects of the Supreme Starstone Lily, reinforced further through fire and ice immunities painstakingly earned across the previous trials, responded with a tenacity that stunned even him.

The pain was real, but his flesh did not crack. His bones did not splinter. His blood did not boil. His silver-grade physique accepted the punishment and grew stronger with each strike. Muscles restructured themselves subtly. Ligaments hardened. Reflexes sharpened.

It was more than just resilience. It was adaptation.

But what took Damien truly by surprise was what happened deep within.

His necromantic core, spinning as always in its calm, disciplined rhythm, began to stir more violently. It responded not with rejection but with hunger. With every bolt of lightning that seared into his body, a portion of that energy was drawn inward, completely devoured.

And then integrated.

It did not remain as pure lightning. It mixed and melded with Damien's existing Death Energy, Time Energy and Space Energy.

Being a completely lower ranked energy, there was no place for it to hold its own shape and form within Damien's Necromantic Core.

The lightning energy became part of the core's reserve energy, not as a separate element, but as a reinforcing pool of energy that could be called upon to be infused into the webwork of his already complex death energy.

Damien would be able to infuse his three main energies with the Lightning Energy's high speed and high destructive attribute.

At that moment, Damien's Necromantic Core was made up of 80% Death Energy, 15% Time Energy and 5% Space Energy. And even then, the Death Energy's purity was far and away higher than the other two.

His death energy, originally cold and absolute, now could be infused with lightning energy to give it a boost in speed, flickering unpredictably like lightning dancing through the bones of ancient corpses.

When further infused with time, it struck with acceleration so sharp that opponents would only realize they had died after the moment had passed.

When laced with spatial intent, it warped through barriers, passing through armor or flesh as though they offered no resistance.

The fusion of his energies was much more than 1 + 1 + 1, it was a synergistic explosion in power. It gained violence, acceleration, and a punishing discharge that tore apart order and left behind crackling devastation.

It was death, now infused with time's inevitability, space's reach, and lightning's wrath.

Strangely, his Necromantic Core did not add the Fire and Ice energy from before into his pool of energy reserve.

It was as though it disdained the addition of such basic elements into its reserve energy pool.

"No matter. Lightning as a reserve energy pool is plenty powerful." Damien thought to himself.

As he reached the three hundred and tenth step, lightning still crackling against his shoulders,

Damien paused briefly to observe the other figures below and above him. The six remaining drow were all within thirty steps of him, none having broken yet, though all bore the marks of damage.

Three of them were from Houses Four, Five, and Six, and they stood just a dozen steps beneath Damien.

He recognized the sigils stitched into their robes. House Calvaris, House Izzoral, and House Veirsha.

The one from House Four, Calvaris, was tall and wiry, her green eyes flickering with restrained calculation. Her name was Sylea. She had a reputation for her wind-element techniques and was known to trade in ancient talismans.

The woman from House Five, Izzoral, was called Thalvia, her body covered in intricate armor that pulsed with defensive inscriptions—her element was iron, and her duels were methodical and merciless.

The last was from House Veirsha, the sixth house, and she moved with a kind of confident arrogance, her violet hair twisted back into elaborate braids, her name whispered in the air like thunder.

Virellia.

Virellia stood at the center of the three, and in her hand was an object that immediately drew Damien's attention, a black umbrella with silver filigree and a humming shaft of what appeared to be condensed lightning.

When she opened it, the lightning strikes that fell upon their position dimmed slightly, their intensity dampened and absorbed into the artifact.

Sylea stepped closer to Virellia, her eyes narrowing. "Is that what I think it is?"

Virellia smiled, her expression pure pride. "A Lightning Sky Umbra. An ancient Veirsha treasure. It drinks the lightning and strengthens those beneath it. You want in? Then make an offer."

Thalvia said nothing, but she retrieved a small jade box from her pouch and passed it to Virellia without argument. Sylea handed over a golden talisman.

The deal was struck.

The three drow moved closer together, crouching under the humming umbrella as it absorbed and diverted the worst of the lightning strikes. Their pace accelerated sharply. The coordination of the umbrella, combined with their shared power, allowed them to ascend at a steady and impressive speed.

Damien observed silently, taking in every movement, every detail.

The way the umbrella pulled in lightning. The way the pressure of each bolt dimmed as it struck the canopy. The fact that Virellia held the umbrella at a particular angle, toward the highest climber.

Toward Nyxara.

Damien's gaze sharpened.

Virellia's eyes flicked upward, past Vathrian, past Lyrisa, straight to Nyxara. Her gaze was not admiration. It was not curiosity. It was cold calculation. And in that calculation, Damien saw something he had seen before.

The subtle, quiet stillness of a predator waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

He did not hesitate.

Damien raised a hand and pointed, his death energy already beginning to spiral, lightning lacing through his core with violent elegance.

At that very instant, Virellia's umbrella crackled violently and angled upward.

A surge of contained lightning burst from the shaft of the treasure, focused into a narrow, spear-like bolt that shot forward with terrifying precision.

It was aimed directly at Nyxara.

The moment the bolt surged forth from the umbrella, Damien moved. His finger flicked, and from the swirling chaos of his fused death core erupted a streak of black-gold energy laced with time distortion and crackling lightning. It cut through the air like a silent blade and intercepted the bolt mid-flight.

There was no explosion. No flash of light. The two forces met in a clean, precise collision that extinguished them both. Nyxara, who had already turned her head at the first sign of hostility, gave a single glance, not of surprise, but of mild acknowledgement. She hadn't needed a second helping hand, but she noted who had given it all the same.

Then she struck.

It was not a shout. It was not a wave of rage. There was no warning or flourish.

Just one arc of shadow, so sharp, so fast, so final, that the umbrella cracked cleanly in half before the others had even drawn breath. The blade of darkness slammed into Virellia, striking her directly across the chest, and tore through her protective armor as if it were paper.

It burned through skin, carved through bone, and unraveled her lifeforce in one seamless motion.

Virellia let out a single shriek, a raw, tearing scream that echoed across the staircase—as her body twisted violently from the force of the blow. In the next instant, she collapsed in on herself, her form dissolving into sparks and vapor, her presence scrubbed from the trial with chilling finality.

The others did not hesitate.

Vathrian stepped forward with a fluid motion and scooped up the shattered remains of the Lightning Sky Umbra, slipping it into his pouch without a second glance at the corpse. Sylea and Thalvia moved in tandem, their hands quick and precise as they looted Virellia's storage pouches without guilt, without pause.

Nyxara said nothing.

She watched them, eyes dark, expression unreadable, and then turned away without a word. She continued her climb, lightning sparking across her body, striking her flesh, kissing her skin, yet never once halting her steps.

She had made her point.

She would not be trifled with.

And should anyone dare to try again, she would not allow a second chance.

Damien exhaled slowly and resumed his own ascent, the burn of lightning still coursing beneath his skin, his necromantic core pulsing with new understanding. Fire, frost, lightning, all now part of his rhythm. The path ahead was long, but his pace did not falter.