Hunter X Hunter: Tombbound Power

"It's all thanks to your machine. I thought I'd spend the rest of my days in this pitiful state, barely scraping by. I never imagined I'd see the day when I could regain my strength again."

The Overlord's voice grew louder, each word swelling with joy that bordered on frenzy, as if he were releasing years of pent-up frustration.

"But your machine worked miracles—it restored the Undead Bone Spear to its original form! And along with it, much of my power has returned!"

Overlord's expression twisted with triumph as he floated above the bone Spear. His ice-blue eyes burned with hatred, flames of malice licking at the edges.

Ronnel raised an eyebrow, his voice calm. "In conjunction?"

"Ah, yes!" Overlord sneered. "Before you killed me, I placed a restriction and oath upon myself, binding my existence to the Undead Bone Spear. Live and die with it—my power inseparably tied to its state!"

"You think restrictions and oaths are exclusive to humans? Fool! We, the bone demon clan, are just as capable!"

Overlord's laughter echoed wildly, his grotesque face contorted with twisted glee.

"I am the Undead Bone Spear, and the Undead Bone Spear is me! Now that it's restored, so am I. My full strength may not have returned, but this is enough to prevent you from controlling my weapon!"

He leaned closer, his expression dripping with malice.

"How does it feel? After all your hard work, the weapon you painstakingly repaired slips right through your fingers. Doesn't it make you feel powerless? Angry? Hahahaha!"

As his maniacal laughter filled the room, Ronnel stood still, his expression unchanged.

"Are you done laughing?"

The soft words cut through the Overlord's hysteria, silencing him instantly. His gaze narrowed as he studied Ronnel's calm demeanor.

"I know it's not so easy for you to die," Ronnel began, his tone even. "After all, your centipede-like resilience ensures survival at all costs. But I didn't anticipate your link to the Undead Bone Spear."

Ronnel's lack of visible anger unsettled the Overlord, who sneered in an attempt to provoke him.

"Are you pretending not to care?"

The Overlord couldn't believe anyone could remain calm after having their prized weapon wrested away. Yet Ronnel's composed face seemed genuine, free of the frustration Overlord so desperately wanted to see.

"Or…" Overlord's voice trailed off as dread seeped into his thoughts. "Is everything still under your control?"

This possibility sent a shiver down his bony form. Every ominous feeling he'd had in the past had come true—why should this time be any different?

Before Overlord could act, Ronnel spoke again, his tone laced with subtle mockery.

"Attaching your will to the Undead Bone Spear was a rational choice. It's only natural for someone desperate to cling to survival, especially when faced with a weapon of such immense power."

Ronnel's blade scraped against the hilt of his sword, producing a sharp, metallic sound.

"After all, your race has endured much. Forced to flee the Dark Continent, brought low by curses and punishments, and reduced to fragments of what you once were. You've spent decades in isolation, stewing in hatred. I'd expect nothing less than a last-ditch obsession to cling to life."

Ronnel's words hit the Overlord like a hammer, exposing the raw truth behind his desperation.

"And besides," Ronnel added, his voice now carrying a sharper edge, "you're nothing more than a remnant of what you used to be. Even when I killed you, your resentment wasn't as strong as it should have been. It was clear then that you weren't truly gone. That's why I knew you'd resurface—pathetic and clinging to the Spear like a parasite."

Overlord's bony fingers trembled, his pride wounded by Ronnel's unrelenting words.

"So what?" he spat, his voice rising.

"Do you think I'll just accept this? I wielded the power of the Sonata of Darkness, strength far surpassing yours, and you were about to die by my Spear! But you—"

Overlord's voice cracked as his frustration boiled over. "You pulled out a flower—a trivial trick! It turned the tide of battle in an instant, dooming me to this wretched state!"

He snarled, his words spilling out in a torrent of bitterness.

"Why can a mere human like you defy death and return stronger, while I—an elite of the bone demon clan—am reduced to this?! Why should I be content?! How can I be convinced?!"

Overlord's cries rang out, his voice carrying the weight of his anguish. The humiliation of his defeat had pushed him to make his desperate oath, tethering his existence to the weapon he now clung to.

But as the echoes of his outburst faded, he forced himself to calm down. His current state—no more than a fragment tied to the Undead Bone Spear—left no room for reckless emotion.

For now, his survival depended on cunning and patience.

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