Eternal Rest

Attributes from the race level-up were automatically distributed, and free points from two class levels were allocated similarly to his previous focus on WIS. Among the final notifications, he discovered he had received a quest prompt, or at least something akin to it.

You have gazed upon the king on his throne and he gazed back. You felt the power behind his eyes and it felt like an ever expanding abyss you lacked the power to understand. Meet The King, test its powers against your own, feel the unfathomable gap between you two.

Quest received: Confront the Troll King Aberrant

Bones couldn't help but wonder if the system was playing tricks on him. The quest, as he interpreted it, involved challenging the king himself - a figure on the throne, shrouded in mystery, possibly a high gold rank or an ascendant monster. He couldn’t be sure. The final notification revealed that his core had recovered, the damage repaired, and it had been further strengthened due to frequent overloading. The ominous tone left Bones with a sense of foreboding, even though he didn't recall overloading his core that often.

Putting the notifications aside, Bones continued his meditation, pondering the enigmatic King. An hour later, he snapped back to his senses. The darkness and silence surrounded him; the trolls had disappeared, perhaps on patrol. Regardless, it was time to find his way out.

Even with the intention of leaving the cavern system without deliberately seeking battles, Bones struggled to navigate. Tunnels led to more caverns or branched into confusing intersections, making him feel increasingly lost. At one point, he even returned back to the hall with the pyramid, where now the empty throne rested. While Bones would swear it took an entire day to find an exit, only a few hours had passed when the moonlight finally reached him from one of the tunnels' exits.

Upon leaving, he stood at the cliff's edge, overlooking the forest in the night's darkness. In the distance, he spotted a clearing illuminated by the moonlight, where a nearly invisible road led to a small watchpost, lit by torches. Bones peered down, extending his senses to discern the shapes of stones, boulders, trees, and a mountain path. With a confident step forward, he descended.

Landing on a path that wound down the mountain, he jogged briefly until reaching the base. The path connected to the road, and he continued until arriving at the gates of a watchpost.

“Halt! You are approaching the Northpoint watchpost. State your business or turn around and be on your way," warned the guard leaning over the watchpost rails.

“This is on my way. I'm heading towards the capital and would like to stay the night.” Bones replied to the guard behind the gates.

“Oh? Alright then,” the guard exclaimed. Shortly after, the gates opened, and two watch guards appeared before Bones. After taking a good look at him, one of them nervously asked for identification. Bones swayed his ID card in front of them and entered. “The tavern is the big building on the left; they have a bath,” the other guard shouted after him. Bones stooped and glanced at the man questioningly, then down at his equipment. His coat was colored rusty red, and he could only imagine what his mask looked like.

The watchpost, as the gate guard described, was small with only a few buildings. The largest was a tavern, with a small general goods shop next to it and barracks situated across, with the training ground nearby. The stable was right next to the gates.

“Tavern it is.”

Entering the establishment, Bones found the place almost empty, except for a few guests at the bar planning to stay the night. Given the late hour, it wasn't surprising. He approached the tired-looking man behind the counter, inquiring about a place to stay for the night and if they had mana potions for sale. As he had learned by now, barkeepers and innkeepers always seemed to have potions for sale. The man pulled out a few flasks from below the desk, and Bones purchased them all before heading upstairs with the key to his room.

His arrival didn't go unnoticed by a man sitting at a table at the far end of the tavern. As Bones ascended the stairs, the man quickly got up and left.

The room was simple, with wooden doors, floors, and windows, stone walls, a bed with a night table, and a small bathroom. Surprisingly, it was rather clean.

Bones' first course of action was, as expected, to clean his equipment. After removing his coat, chitin armor, and shirt, he looked at himself in the mirror. Huh, bone armor truly filled in the gaps in my skeleton, he thought. He was no longer the typical skeleton in appearance. Bone Armor had become sturdier as it leveled up, but it still strained him to constantly channel it during battles. Several times during the troll encounter, he was forced to deactivate the skill to regenerate much-needed mana.

Filling the tub with water, he left the equipment to soak and lay down on the bed. Placing one leg over the other, with one hand behind his head, he took out a mana potion with the other. One swig later, his face was covered in liquid as the potion spilled. "Oh, for the love of..." he muttered and after taking a deep breath, he took another sip, carefully, while contemplating future plans.

As he relaxed, he started working out plans in his head. So far, he hadn't had a specific plan, mostly going with the flow. He had always liked having power for its own sake, and that desire for power remained. However, the question loomed: what kind of power did he want to pursue?

Immortality had always been the goal, and now he had achieved it, albeit not in the form he initially imagined. As a skeleton, there was no mention of race upgrades with the undead in the books he had read, only class upgrades. Was it impossible to change or advance a race as a skeleton? Doubtful. Yet, even if it were possible, Bones found himself content with how he was. With each level, he could feel himself getting stronger. The real question remained: what did he truly want?

"I want..."

*knock knock*

Bones' train of thought was abruptly interrupted by a series of knocks on the door. He frowned.

"No, that's not it..." he murmured, contemplating his thoughts. Then, in response to the knocking, he asked, "What is it?”

“Ah, excuse me sir. There are some men downstairs asking for you.”

A figure he detected leaving the tavern in a rush after he went up the stairs came to mind.

“It's the middle of the night. Tell 'em I'm not receiving any visitors.” Bones replied. The barkeep detected annoyance in his tone, however, he persisted.

“Sir, I'm afraid I have to insist!”

A few seconds later, the sound of boots clanking on the wooden floor was heard. Bones opened the door, and the barkeep gasped, freezing stiff as he looked into the blue baleful blaze where Bones' eyes would be. Bones spared him a glance as he passed him by and went downstairs, the clacking on the wooden floor following his footsteps.

Downstairs, two men were waiting at the base of the stairs, the third was leaning against the bar, and the last one leaned against a tavern door, blocking the exit.

“Now, who would be so impolite as to ask for me in the middle of the night?” a voice echoed from the upper floor while the clanking intensified, and Bones descended the stairs.

The two men at the base looked at each other and snickered before one of them replied, “You don't need to know, just get down here! Do you have any fucking idea how long we have been searching for you? Who the fuck goes over the mountains during the troll season??”

Bones halted his steps. “Troll season?”

“Are you for real? Hey!” The other thug turned to the other two behind him. “This dumbass didn't even know about the troll season!” Snickering permeated the empty tavern as the clacking continued. A thug next to the mocking one took two steps back until he stopped stiff and growled, “What the fuck are you?” The mocking one turned to him, seeing he was stepping away. “What the hell are you doing man?”

“Look behind you, idiot!”

The man slowly turned around and saw a skeleton in leather pants and worker boots standing in front of him. His eyes went wide, and with a stutter, he barely uttered, “W-wh-what are you?”

“You were asking for me? Who are you?” Bones replied, ticked off.

“What? You? Y-you're an undead?”

“I know who I am, lad, I'm asking you who you are?”

Stupefied, the man needed a second to respond. “S-stones? Stones! We're here for the stones!” He spat out.

“That…doesn't really tell me much.” Bones cocked his head and replied. A glance over the man's shoulder told him they weren't really here to talk. The other three men had weapons drawn and were now blocking the exit. They seemed on edge and ready to attack at a moment's notice. “We weren't told this!” One of the men in the back shouted. “We need to report this to Guntar!”

Hearing the name, Bones repeated: “Guntar…I see. Are these the stones you were looking for?” He summoned a pair of mana stones in his hand, without the Kingdom's emblem for them to see.

“Shit! It really is him! What do we do?” One of them asked.

“Oh, you don't have to do anything, I'll do all the work.” Bones replied instead, in his most sinister voice.

For a second, nobody moved, and the atmosphere in the tavern intensified until the thug in front of Bones couldn’t take it anymore and made a move. His hand drew the sword from the sheath of his belt while he jumped backward at the same time. The two thugs behind stepped forward while the fourth one reached for the door. All of it happening in a second.

Bones also reacted in that same second. He predicted the man's course of action, raised an arm, and the spikes manifested at the location the first thug jumped back to. Raising the other arm, he summoned a lance and immediately cast it towards the man reaching for the door. The two thugs that stepped forward ducked beneath the lance and looked back as the fourth one managed to avoid a direct hit to his torso but was impaled on the door through his shoulder.

Bones didn't summon another lance. He thought about it after he left the mountains and came to the conclusion that he really needed to work on his defense, so he waited for his attackers to come to him. The thug that first drew his weapon jumped right into the spikes behind and remained crippled. His choice of action was to scream and cuss profanities in between. The other two that ducked and avoided the lance looked at each other, shared a look, nodded, and dashed forward, flanking Bones from the sides.

“This is fine, I need to see how much damage Bone Armor can take.” Bones readied himself for the upcoming beating.

"Captain?"

"We won't interfere, for now. What did the barkeep tell you?"

"Steve? He said the men came here yesterday morning and mostly kept to themselves."

[crash]

"What of the other one?"

"Signed in as Bones, cap. Came not even an hour ago, from the direction of the mountains."

[crash]

The guard captain turned to the man, then glanced at the imposing mountains in the distance. "Don't interfere."

"Right…"

[more sounds of crashing]

silence

The door squeaked open, and Bones emerged, dragging a man by the collar. The man appeared haggard, sporting a wounded shoulder, broken teeth, and a bloody nose.

"The captain, I presume?" Bones inquired.

The captain was taken aback, observing the skeleton before him, but he quickly composed himself and responded, "Aye. Are you a mercenary passing through?"

Bones cackled as he attempted a smile. "Aye, just passing through."

Contrary to Bones' perception, his smile sent a shiver down the spines of the men behind the captain. They panicked and drew their weapons.