Swordsman's Regression: Reawakened as a Necromancer-Chapter 127: EXP Cost Increase

He returned to the battle, swimming through the chaos like a conductor, reading the flow of battle.

Every time the Bats tried to overwhelm a section of his srmy, he was there, the scythe reaping souls to reinforce his minions’ morale.

It wasn’t like his Skeletons really needed the help, Percival just didn’t like to feel lazy.

Even then, they were all fighting bravely.

On the right flank, one of the newer recruits found itself isolated when two bats crashed into its shield and knocked it sideways.

Before the Bats could press the advantage, two Blazeforged Blades wielders were there. One slammed its shield into the first bat’s face, stunning it, while the other decapitated the second bat with a single clean stroke.

The first bat tried to flee, but a Ranger’s arrow caught it in the spine.

The Bats kept coming. The Skeletons kept killing.

One Bat managed to sink its fangs into a skeleton’s arm. The teeth scraped against bone, found no blood, no flesh to drain.

The Skeleton simply grabbed the bat by the throat with its other hand and stabbed it into the wall with its flaming sword. The bat dissolved to mana dust.

Another Bat tried to wrap its wings around a Skeleton’s head, blinding it. The Skeleton dropped its sword, reached up, and pulled.

The Bat burst into smoke, when it reformed, a burning arrow shot right through its heart.

Percival turned to the Ranger that had shot the arrow. When it looked at him, he pointed to the Demon Source.

The Skeleton nodded and fired several arrows at the pulsing nest. With a burst of necromantic blue and demonic green, the nest exploded.

⸢Demon Source destroyed⸥

⸢+800 EXP⸥

Finally, the last Bat fell.

It crashed into a Skeleton’s shield, bounced off, and before it could recover, a Skeleton punched its Blazeforged into its chest, pinning it to the carpet.

The crack of bone was obscenely loud in the sudden quiet. The Bat twitched once, wings spasming, then dissolved into grey ash.

⸢You have killed a Demon Vampire Bat (Lvl 42)⸥

⸢+500 EXP⸥

Silence returned to the gallery. An almost sweet silence.

To be honest, Percival found himself having far more fun that he had anticipated. Demon Gate Worlds were proving to be easier than he expected.

Still, he wasn’t going to be complacent. Time would tell.

However, there was something weird going on. He had expected to have received a very important notification by now.

He swept his gaze over his troops. Five skeletons were really injured. Percival used ⸢Soul Draught⸥ on the ashen corpses of the Bats and the bone men were all rejuvenated.

They stood at attention, awaiting orders.

"Good," Percival nodded. "Return to your Summon Space. Pretty sure I’ll be in need of you soon."

As they were engulfed by the blue flames, he lifted his scythe over his head, returning it to his weaponhold.

Then he opened his interface. The thrill of the massacre was still humming in his veins. He had killed hundreds of them.

Surely, the threshold was crossed. So why hadn’t he received a notification yet?

Where was the extravagant celebration for reaching the Lvl 50 threshold?

⸢ EXP: 271,700 / 301,999⸥

Percival froze. "What?"

⸢To Level 50: 30,000+ EXP Remaining⸥

His dark blue stared at the number like it was devil itself.

Just minutes ago, he had calculated that he needed perhaps two thousand more points. Now, the requirement had bloated. It had multiplied by nearly fifteen times.

"Thirty thousand?" he hissed, the blue light of the interface reflecting his scowl. "That’s... absurd."

For a normal Awakener, this would be a despair-inducing glitch. It would mean weeks of grinding.

However, it slowly dawned on Percival and his scowl relaxed.

This had happened before. Percival had only forgotten because a lot of things happened long after it did.

Lvl 150 was a greatly important level in the life of an Awakener. Whenever an arbitrary increase in EXP cost happened, it meant that the innate talent was going to be a very powerful one.

"It happened to me back then too," Percival whispered, his mind racing. "Master Omares said it only happens because the Soul Core is preparing to house a High-Grade Innate Talent."

A standard talent cost standard EXP. A Mythic or Legendary talent required a massive sacrifice of energy to unlock.

If the System was demanding 30,000 more EXP, it meant the talent waiting for him at Level 50 was huge.

Hopefully, he could reclaim ⸢Battle Fever⸥, as well as whatever Innate Talent was awakened for his Necromancer Class.

"This is good," Percival reasoned, though the weight of the task pressed on him. "It means I’m on the right path. But..."

He looked down the endless, dark corridor of Suicide Manor.

"Thirty thousand. Can I get it done in this Gate World?"

He grimaced with worry. If he cleared the Gate World without reaching Level 50, he could lose momentum.

He housed a bittersweet desire. He wanted the upcoming Demon Threats to be more powerful. Powerful enough to grant him higher EXP when killed—

—not powerful enough to murder him on the spot.

Huuu... huuu...

Percival’s ear twitched.

Did he just hear something? Something that sounded human.

It was faint, buried under the silent mouse of the Manor, but his sharp senses caught it easily.

It was a whimper. The sound of a human trying desperately to be quiet, and failing.

Percival turned his head sharply to the right.

The sound was coming from a massive, baroque wardrobe pushed against the wall, its mahogany wood rot-infested and peeling.

He stared at it for a while, thinking.

He decided to investigate.

Silently, Percival walked across the damp carpet. He let his metal boots thud heavily, announcing his presence. The whimpering inside the wardrobe stopped abruptly, and Percival could hear the sound of a breath being held.

He stopped before the double doors but hesitated.

After a moment, he reached for the rusted brass handles.

The whimper came again.

Percival ripped the doors open.

Inside, curled into a fetal ball amidst a pile of moth-eaten coats, was a figure shaking so violently their teeth chattered.

"Who the hell are y—"

Percival tried to speak but he was immediately attacked with a blast of golden mana straight to the face.