SS Awakening: My Monster Merging System!

Zich did not dream.

He was not asleep either, not exactly. His body had shut down on its own and dragged his mind down with it. No sensation. No sound. No thought. Just the faint awareness that he was still alive.

He did not know how long he stayed like that.

He did not know he had collapsed face-first in the market square. He did not know his blood had been pooling under his left sleeve long enough to stain the cracked stones dark, or that the soul stone bag was pinned under his chest with one arm wrapped around it.

He did not know any of that.

But someone else did.

The Elite Undead Knight stood over Zich’s body, motionless.

It had not moved from the spot where Zich fell. When its master’s consciousness cut out, the summoning link should have severed. The knight should have dissolved back into the graveyard like every other summon did when its caster lost grip. That was how the magic worked.

But it did not.

Instead it stood there watching it’s master silently.

The Bone Claws had gave chase after they escaped but eventually pulled back toward the cathedral district. Whether it was exhaustion, losses, or something else, the Elite Undead Knight did not know and did not care. Its major concern was making sure Zich was safe.

A low, pale light burned in the knight’s eye sockets as it shifted its gaze to the distance, looking for any threat.

The wind blew through the empty street quietly, carrying the smell of bone dust and dried blood. Even though there was no enemy in sight, it continued to watch the perimeter. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

An hour passed. Maybe two. The knight’s head turned at regular intervals, scanning the rooftops, the alleys, the dark windows of the buildings.

At some point, a scavenger undead crept out from behind a collapsed cart. It was small and hunched, with too many joints and not enough skin. Its head tilted toward Zich. It could smell the blood. It could smell the soul stones.

The knight turned its head.

The glow behind its visor got brighter. It did not move from its spot. It did not draw its sword. It just looked at the scavenger.

The scavenger froze mid-step.

Neither moved for three seconds.

The scavenger’s limbs shook. Its jaw opened and closed with a dry click. Then it turned and scrambled back behind the cart, rattling into the rubble until it was gone.

The knight’s glow went back to normal, and it went back to watching the perimeter.

The red sky over the city turned a dark purple, and the temperature fell. Shadows stretched all the way across the street.

Zich’s body twitched.

It was not on purpose. His left arm had slipped, and the movement pulled at the wound under his sleeve. Fresh blood ran down his forearm and dripped onto the stone.

The knight looked down.

It stood there a moment, visor aimed at the blood. Then it did something it had not done since Zich passed out.

It knelt.

The motion was slow and stiff, like everything the knight did. Its knee hit the stone with a clang as it lowered itself to the ground. One gauntleted hand reached toward Zich’s arm and pressed the edge of its own torn cloak against the wound.

The cloth was rough and smelled of iron, but it was thick enough to slow the bleeding.

Even after the bleeding stopped, the knight held it there. It didn’t apply any extra pressure and simply held it in place.

And it would remain like that for the next couple of hours.

As all this went on, Zich did not wake up. His breathing was shallow, but his previously pale face was beginning to regain some color. The soul stone bag was still under his chest, and even unconscious, his right hand had not let go of the strap.

After what felt like an eternity, Zich finally regained consciousness.

The first thing he felt was pain. Shoulder, arm, ribs, legs, all burning with intense pain capable of making one go mad.

The second was cold. The stone under him was sucking the little heat out of his body, and his cloak was too thin to protect him. The third was pressure on his left arm from clutching the soul stone bag.

And the fourth and last was silence. The only sound was his own breathing.

Zich slowly opened his eyes.

The world was blurry and sideways. He could see stone. Dust. A dark shape above him. The sky beyond it was purple and full of stars he did not recognize.

He tried to move, and every joint in his body protested.

The dark shape above him shifted.

Zich blinked until his eyes focused. It was the Elite Undead Knight, kneeling next to him with one hand pressed against his arm and its cloak bunched under his sleeve. The pale glow behind its visor was the only light he could see.

He stared at it.

It stared back. Or at least he thought it did.

It was hard to tell with an Elite Undead Knight. He had never seen its expression, as it was always concealed under that helmet.

Right now, all he could see was the knight kneeling beside him, holding a bandage against his wound with the patience of something that did not get tired, did not sleep, and did not leave.

"You’re still here," Zich said, his voice coming out as a rasp. His throat was too dry for more than that.

The knight did not answer. It had no voice. But the glow behind its visor changed—not brighter or dimmer, just different. Zich could not explain it, but he understood it.

He closed his eyes again. Not because he was going back under. Because looking at the knight’s face made something uncomfortable tighten in his chest.

Summons were tools. He had always known that. He used them, rented them, brought them back when he needed them, and they returned automatically when the mana ran out. The Elite Undead Knight was no different from Slimy or Blood Leech. It existed when called and was gone when it was not.

But the knight was still here...how was that possible?

...

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