I found myself frozen, staring at the pile of rocks that had almost crushed me. They seemed to mock me with their silent gaze, taunting me for trying to chase the necromancer. My mind was spinning, trying to make sense of what had just happened. The necromancer's power was unlike anything I had ever seen, and I knew I had to step up my game if I wanted to survive. Telekinesis - that was his secret weapon, another skill in his vast arsenal of abilities.

I took a deep breath and summoned my own magic, concentrating on moving the rocks. But they didn't budge. As I had feared, water mana was weakened by the dark mana in the air. I was trapped. Both entrances to the hidden cave were blocked, I was sure. The couple had probably locked the other one before they left me with their boss. I had anticipated a trap ever since I left the stadium, but that didn't make it any easier to escape.

My heart pounded as I faced the necromancer's scheme. I felt a strange mix of frustration and excitement. I had planned to use him, but he had used me instead. The old priest was formidable, skilled, and relentless. He would stop at nothing to kill me. But I also felt a surge of excitement. This was the challenge I had been waiting for, the test I had been preparing for - a worthy opponent who would push me to my limits. I grinned without realizing it. Don't get me wrong, I was not playing around. I had to win. My adoptive mother's life depended on it, and I couldn't let her down. My resolve was stronger than ever.

As I lay there, lost in thought, a sudden noise jolted me awake. The ground trembled as the necromancer's spell activated, and the corpse drawers slid open. With a loud screech, the drawers revealed their contents, and the corpses began to move. Some of them leaped out of their drawers, while others crawled out slowly, their limbs rigid and clumsy. As they hit the ground, they started to gather, their empty eyes searching for something. They were slow at first, but then they gained speed, their movements becoming more smooth and coordinated. The air was filled with the stench of decay and the sound of bones snapping. But the graves remained closed. They were still sealed, their inhabitants undisturbed. It was as if the necromancer's spell had only affected certain parts of the cemetery, leaving others untouched. This was the source of the dark mana that fueled the spell, and it was out of my reach.

I had no way to stop the spell, since its source was buried deep in the ground. As the undead horde approached, I searched the rubble for anything that could serve as a weapon. I spotted an iron ring that had come from a broken corpse drawer door. I quickly realized that I could use it to make a mace. I threaded my belt through the ring and gripped it firmly, ready to face the undead.

I looked at the gruesome parade of undead, hunting for their next prey. Their moans and groans filled the halls, making me shiver. I knew I had to be careful, my heart racing in anticipation, as I saw undead bodies rising from everywhere. They were horrific, their flesh rotting and their eyes hollow. Some were missing limbs or had gaping wounds, while others were just skeletons. And yet, even as I quaked with fear, I knew I had to keep fighting.

I fought back, swinging my mace and smashing several of them with a satisfying thud. But they kept coming, more and more of them, and I knew I was outnumbered and outmatched. I had to find another way to fend them off. I had to get out of this hellhole. The undead were everywhere, scratching the walls, snapping their teeth. They had no senses, contrary to popular belief, but they could feel me. They could sense my blue mana, like a beacon in the dark. They pursued it relentlessly, driven by hunger and instinct. They ignored the cave's twists and turns, the dead ends and obstacles. They only cared about the movement of my mana, and they moved with me. I had to escape, I had to survive. And I had to do it fast, before the Amber hour arrived.

I kept my distance from them and focused on creating a small ball of concentrated mana, a vaporous sphere that I could send to the other side of the cave to lure them away and buy some time. That would give me the chance to think of a way to get out of the hidden cemetery. The drawback was that it would drain a lot of my mana, and I wouldn't have enough left to create anything else, only to cast simple spells.

I threw the lure and watched the undead drift away from me. It was a temporary solution, though. The magic mist would vanish if I lost focus or ran out of mana. I scrambled up the rocks to get some distance and elevation. I aimed for one of the massive chandeliers that lit up the cave. If I could reach it, I could use my magic to break free. The priest had overlooked one thing: we were on a mana source, above a ley line. That gave me a chance to perform a ley shift and escape the trap. All I needed was a few seconds of concentration, which was impossible with the corpses on my tail.

It was hard climbing and the rocks were too far away from my goal. To reach the chandeliers I would need to move to one of the walls and grab one of the open corpse drawers then use my acrobatic skills and grab the border of the chandelier behind me. Cold sweating I moved to the right position and forced my body up, barely grabbing the entrance of the body repository. Then the hard part of my climbing, I had to roll my body in the air and grab the border with precision or I would fall in the ground and the corpses would reach me since the lure would disappear due to the pain I would feel.

It was time to put my physical training to the test. I lunged to the side, executing a precise roll. However, the oily surface of the chandelier proved treacherous, causing one of my hands to slip. With the other hand barely clinging to my weight, I found myself in a precarious position. It was enough to break my concentration, and the lure vanished. Hanging delicately, I observed as the skeletons and decaying corpses resumed their relentless search for me.

There was no way to ley slide in this precarious position, and the inevitable fall to the ground loomed. Desperation fueled my actions as I swung my body, attempting to stretch my other arm to reach the border. It was a desperate gambit, but my strength proved insufficient, only serving to exhaust me further. Reluctantly, I released my grip and descended to the floor, overwhelmed by frustration and uncertainty. As I landed, I watched helplessly as they closed in, ready for the final assault.

Summoning all the resilience within me, I rolled away from the encroaching undead, narrowly avoiding their clamoring reach. My mind raced, seeking a way to hold and find a way to survive. In the dim light of the cave, I spotted a dilapidated crypt and the looming graves surrounding it. With a burst of determination, I darted towards the crypt, using the uneven terrain to my advantage.

As I sprinted, the relentless horde chased me, their ghastly moans echoing through the cavern. Their skeletal hands clawed at the air, inching closer with each step. The uneven ground added an extra layer of difficulty, but the urgency of survival propelled me forward.

Reaching the crypt, I quickly assessed my options. Instead of seeking refuge inside, I Would need to force my way to a sturdy door, I spotted a series of weathered ledges on its side. With no time to spare, I started to climb, the rough stone biting into my fingertips. The undead below gnashed their teeth, not deviating from their relentless pursuit.

Gritting my teeth, I pulled myself up, hand over hand, gaining elevation on the crypt's uneven surface. The cold sweat on my palms mingled with the dampness of the moss-covered stones. The horde below, fueled by hunger and instinct, clawed at the crypt's walls, their hollow eyes fixed on their elusive prey.

As I ascended, the urgency intensified. One of the undead managed to grab hold of my boot, sending a jolt of panic through me. With a swift kick, I shook it loose, and the horde below howled in frustration. The climb became a test of strength and agility, my muscles straining with every upward movement.

Finally, I reached the roof of the crypt, gasping for breath. The undead, now beneath me, continued their futile attempts to reach their elusive quarry.

As I struggled against the horde, the echoes of my own labored breath mingled with the groans of the undead. Time seemed to blur, the line between survival and surrender growing thin.

 They started to climb after me and it would be just a matter of time till they surrounded me completely.

 Just when it felt like the encroaching darkness would claim me, a sudden explosion shattered the oppressive atmosphere.

The front door burst open in a cascade of bone splinters, and the ominous silence that had gripped the cave was replaced by the roar of a shotgun. A figure, cloaked in shadows, emerged from the entrance, wielding the weapon with deadly precision. The sudden burst of gunfire startled the undead, giving me a fleeting moment of reprieve.

As the mysterious savior continued to unleash a barrage of shots, the undead recoiled. I seized the opportunity, scrambling to my feet and retreating from the chaos. The newcomer, a beacon of hope in the grim cavern, had arrived just in time to turn the tide.

With his aid, we bolted to the now open door and moved outside. To my surprise, the undead didn't follow, collapsing to the ground as soon as I stepped outside the hidden cemetery.

It was time to thank my savior, and he removed his cloak, smiling.

"It seems I got here just in time."

The familiar face made me bug my eyes: Father Thomas was standing in front of me, very much alive. The shock of seeing him breathing in front of me was overwhelming, leaving me speechless.

Before I could comprehend the impossibility of his presence, Father Thomas's expression shifted and he got serious. His once-smiling face turned grim as he uttered words that made me fell come back to reality, "It's not over. They were just the beginning. We need to find the Grimoire before it is too late"

The hidden cemetery, now eerily quiet, revealed nothing but shadows. The revelation of Father Thomas's unexpected resurrection lingered, leaving an unsettling tension in the air. The nightmare was far from over, and the mysterious circumstances surrounding his return hinted at a deeper, more ominous truth.