"Alright, Sebas, organize the skeleton soldiers to collect all the embers."
"Embers?"
"Mm, those gray ashes — they're the final traces left behind after all things are reduced to nothingness. If we don't touch them, they'll completely vanish in about three days.
But if we make good use of them, we could end up with a batch of auric-grade equipment."
Hel gave a simple explanation, and Sebas didn't ask further.
Once he understood that these ashes were useful to Hel, he immediately commanded the skeleton soldiers to begin collecting them, while Arwin stood guard nearby.
As for Hel, she found a safe place, performed Undead Possession, and continued exploring the goblin ruins.
Behind the auric mechanical gate stretched a long corridor, somewhat like an underground tunnel.
It wasn't long — the skeletons had barely walked a short distance before the space suddenly opened up.
It felt as if they had just walked from a gladiator's waiting area straight into the arena itself.
Before them lay a wide, straight street lined with rows of bronze buildings — all forged entirely from red copper, exuding a distinct steampunk aesthetic.
Further ahead was an open plaza.
At the center of the plaza stood a colossal metal statue, tens of meters tall, depicting a goblin king wearing a crown, hands clasped behind his back, gazing into the distance.
Only, though it was a goblin, it didn't resemble the short, scrawny, goblin-like creatures Hel had seen in her previous life.
This statue had long, pointed ears like a goblin's, but its features were far more human.
A thick beard, a body packed with muscle — it radiated sheer physical strength.
And, of course, there was that long, hooked nose.
When Hel's gaze followed the statue's head upward, she noticed something utterly out of place for an underground ruin.
A sun — glowing faintly blue.
A sun?
An artificial sun?
How… sci-fi.
Had goblin technology really advanced to the level of controlled nuclear fusion?
Was this still the same fantasy world she knew? Magic, they said — but this looked like science fiction.
[Name]: Soul Furnace
[Grade]: Golden · Legendary
[Description]: The pinnacle of goblin engineering. Harnesses the torment and resentment born from burning souls to produce an even fiercer flame.
A tool of illumination — and of torture.
Trust me, no one can hold onto their secrets while their soul burns.
…Well then.
Hel had to admit, that was pretty magical.
But really — goblins, of all creatures, playing with soul magic instead of machinery?
First, the mechanical guardians ran on soul energy.
Now, this artificial sun too.
It really felt like these goblins had taken a completely wrong turn on the tech tree.
Still, this was good news for Hel.
If that thing had been an actual artificial sun, she might have given up on it — after all, she wasn't exactly flameproof.
But if it ran on souls, then maybe, just maybe, she could figure out a way to dismantle it and take it home.
Just as Hel was pondering how to pack it up—
Suddenly, from an angle none of the skeletons could see, an arrow whistled through the air and pierced right through her eye socket.
Thunk! — Her skull flew clean off.
And that's the end of the story — roll credits, happy ending!
…Of course not.
See, Hel was currently using the body of a Bone Magus, and Bone Magi were skeletons.
So, when the arrow passed through her eye socket, all it really did was knock her skull clean off — it even bounced and rolled several times before coming to a stop.
It took her a moment to process what had just happened.
Out of instinct, she tried to scratch her head… only to realize she didn't have one.
Right. As mentioned before — skeletal undead are much like slimes. Their physical parts don't really matter.
Even without a head, they can still move around just fine.
What truly matters is the elemental crystal within their body, and the soul flame housed within it.
So, while Hel might look a bit ridiculous right now — a cute little skeleton missing its head — it wasn't really a problem.
What was a problem was that she'd let her guard down.
Sure, the view here was spectacular, but that was no excuse to relax.
A lapse like that was simply inexcusable.
After mentally scolding herself, she immediately commanded the nearby skeletons to form a defensive perimeter around her.
Once she was safely surrounded, she finally had time to assess what had attacked them.
On the rooftops above, shadowy figures darted back and forth with astonishing agility — leaping, flipping, and disappearing like a troop of mountain monkeys.
They moved too fast to see clearly, vanishing one instant only to fire a cold arrow from another direction the next.
[Name]: Snow Elf Hunter
[Rank]: Tier 3
[Power]: 85
[Description]: Snow Elf elite warriors, enslaved and modified by goblins into killing machines.
…
[Name]: Snow Elf Assassin Master
[Rank]: Tier 4
[Power]: 195
[Description]: A snow elf enslaved and altered by goblins, honed by years of slaughter into a master assassin.
…
Alright then — so they weren't monkeys. They were snow elves.
If it came down to a head-on battle, Hel's forces could easily crush them.
Unfortunately, these snow elves fought like mischievous mountain monkeys — darting about, sniping from afar, and vanishing before you could retaliate.
They weren't particularly deadly, but they were extremely annoying — death by a thousand paper cuts.
With no better option, Hel ordered a disciplined retreat.
Her team consisted entirely of elite undead, all Tier 3 and above, and her mechanical centurion, forged entirely of mithril, was holding the front line.
Their defenses were ironclad — so, barring accidents, they should have been able to withdraw safely.
But of course — things never go as planned.