Shaking my feline ears as the two tails twist in the air, I think about his move. The tails move sinuously and autonomously, causing the bow-tied bells to ring when sudden movements occur.
It is a crystal-clear sound, pleasant, but distracting.
In my right hand, I hold a chess piece.
It is carved from black, Devil's bone. I test its smoothness with my thumb.
Ci-cin.
The bells ring again. I turn slightly, my black snake-headed tail pointing at the board. The other thorny bone tail continues to move indifferently.
I haven't yet understood whether my will is also in them, or whether they move on their own.
Beyond the tails and wherever you lose sight, the desert reigns. The flat calm of the underworld.
Ci-cin.
“We have little time left” my opponent, on the other side of the board, sitting cross-legged on the cushion. Like me anyway.
“Father, your defense is formidable.”
“As always, he he he. But that's not what makes you hesitate, is it?”
I look at my father. His thin, pale body, his thick black mane, his blue eyes.
How much I inherited from him…
…but if I win now, I won't be able to see him anymore.
You understood it father, you understood it.
“Put that Ferryman down, come on. From there, my defeat will be irreversible, he-he.”
Ci-cin.
“Okay, father.”
I place the piece of bone – the Ferryman – between his Sorcerer and his God. In this way the web is tense. On the next move, he will have to sacrifice the Warlock to avoid checkmate and, from there, he will lose his Knights and it will be over.
“View? It wasn't difficult.”
“You could still win,” I lie.
“Ha ha-ha, you're a terrible liar. Very bad… come on, here's your hand.”
My father extends his hand towards me. I extend my hand towards him.
Ci-cin.
The bells around my snake tail.
“Well done, good match.”
I look down. “So… ten thousand years have passed…?”
He strokes my head between my ears. His hand is cold, like me anyway. But it's nice when he does that.
“Ten thousand years. A long, long time when I think about it.”
“But…”
“Open your grimoire, it should update.”
I take his hand in mine and bring it to my cheek.
“Father. If I open it, it will be the end…”
“Would you like to leave it closed forever? Go ahead, open it, and get level twenty-one. And may the next thousand years be as jubilant as mine have been. So that you can even make two, three, five thousand!”
“Not ten?”
His gaze is as peaceful as the underworld itself. The empty gaze filled only with affection, sculpted over ten thousand years of reign.
“Yes, even ten if you want. Now come on, I'm going over there to rest.”
Silence falls.
My father retracts his arm and frees himself from my grasp.
Ci-cin.
My tails get restless. No.
I'm nervous.
I'm going over there to rest…
It means that he will go to the ultimate goal of every ruler: the Ocean. His time will come there.
I follow him with my gaze. He opens the ash-colored wooden door and closes it behind him.
He went.
He is gone forever.
I stand up. The freezing floor passes through my fishnet stocking.
Leaning on the porch, I look at the horizon.
The Underwasteland. The underworld is a dumping ground for everything that is not alive.
There is nothing here on the upper floor except the vast desert of ash.
I turn towards the door one last time.
By now my father will have reached the Ocean. He can instantly move between planes. Like me, anyway.
Since my twenties [lv] I have struggled to understand it: why? Why not live another ten thousand years?
Ci-cin.
But so, he decided, so is the law of this world. The System laws.
I raise my palm. My green claw nails seem suspended in space.
“Appear.”
At the call of my voice, a large dark tome appears in my hand. A silver chain dangles, at its peak there is a thin crescent-shaped blade.
It pulses with a purple, tentacle-like light. A sign that some functions need to be updated.
That's how it is.
I accept it.
“Open.”
With that word, the book opens. It scrolls by itself until one page toward the middle. It glows with those purple miasmas and the page on which it is open swirls with black ink.
They take on a clearer shape until they become a statistical table.
My statistics table.
[lv: 20] [up: +1] [xp: 1050]
[name: N]
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
[type: Eldritch Entity]
[class: Bakenekro]
[priority: ?]
[job: ?]
Opening the statistics table is a thrill.
The sense of the new, seeing that one value – the experience points – increases with my years.
In reality, the level also increases, with each update I get older. That [up: +1] marks that I can finally upgrade to [lv: 21].
Not just any [lv]. It coincides with my actual age.
It's the [lv] that will unlock my [job] and my [priority].
…along with it, it will make me take my father's place…
Holding the book open in my hand, I bite the thumb of my free hand.
Blood.
Green drops dripping onto the pages.
My blood oxidizes immediately, going from green to black. But that's enough.
The purple miasma expands and twists.
Ci-cin.
Enveloped in darkness, I reopen my eyes to my world: the Underwasteland.
I didn't hear anything abnormal. It's as if I leveled normally.
I check the statistics.
[lv: 21] [xp: 1050]
[name: N]
[type: Eldritch Entity]
[class: Bakenekro]
[priority: Magic]
[job: Empress]
They have changed.
The job: [Empress], and my priority: [Magic] appeared.
In these twenty-one levels, I have accumulated the basic knowledge of the Underwasteland, together with the [xp].
So far, I have not been able to use the [xp], nor have I been able to consult the parts of the grimoire freely.
Up to level [21] for [Eldritch Entity] it is a fact.
It seems that certain creatures, such as domestic cats and humans, can consult the library as early as level [3] or [4]. But it is also true that their vitality is significantly lower.
However, the ink continues to produce rivulets and streams on the paper, a sign that I don't have time to think.
“Parameters.”
This is the command to access the vital [parameters].
[hp: 2365]
[s: 2][c: 3]―[d: 6][i: 5][…][…]
[ap: 3562]
[c: 3][i: 5]―[d: 6][s: 2][…][…]
[?]
[…][…]―[…][…][…][…]
Interesting.
[?] means unlockable.
[…] they are empty slots. They will probably fill up after I unlock [?].
[hp] indicates the physical parameters as a whole, while [ap] the magical ones. They are the values of my vitality, the most important.
From what my father taught me: [c], [d], [i], [s] are [constitution], [dexterity], [intelligence], and [strength] respectively.
The values on the left are immutable, while those on the right are permutable. In practice, the different priority of the elements characterizes the set of my [parameters].
Pretty simple.
I have no valid yardsticks. After ten thousand years, my father told me that he had everything at [9] and it is true.
Ten thousand years is a long time.
So many that you even want to…
Ci-cin.
I hold back tears.
Later I will pay homage to his memory. I know that's what he would want. Twenty-one [lv] is a short time to live, but I'm sure he wants me to do a good job.
The grimoire still has one page to show me.
“Skills.”
As before the pages flow, the crescent swings, and the miasmas caress my tails, my hair.
Here the [skills] page appears.
[skill]:
[mastery + requires]
[Cosmic regeneration]
[1] + [Eldritch Entity]
[Necromancy]
[1] + [Magic]
[Judgment]
[5] + [Empress]
[Dungeon path]
[3] + [Eldritch Entity]
[Domestic skills]
[3] + [hp]
… + [compatible class]
[Scan]
[2] + [ap]
[Poisonous bite]
[2] + [Bakenekro]
[Poison cloud]
[1] + [Necromancy]
… + [Bakenekro]
[Will-o'-the-wisp]
[1] + [Magic]
… + [Bakenekro]
The [skills] acquired upon reaching [lv: 21] are at the first step of [mastery].
My [Domestic skills], useful for everyday life and the ability to teleport into the labyrinth of the Underwasteland, are instead at [3] out of a maximum of [9].
The same goes for my [Poisonous bite]. Mine and of my tails.
At least, in these twenty-one [lv] I have practiced.
[Scan] is also at [2]. I used it a few times, under the guidance of my father.
[Poison cloud] sounds interesting. Apparently, I can get specific abilities by combining my stats.
[Poison cloud] My father didn't have it. I'm sure.
On the other hand, he didn't have [Necromancy], but he did have [Time].
[Judgment] is a new [skill] and is very high. It is an indispensable [skill] for my task, it makes sense that it should be so. Indeed, it is strange that it is not already at its maximum capacity.
My father didn't warn me.
Ci-cin.
I close the grimoire which evaporates in a dark haze.
There are many things I have to investigate, too many typologies and sub-typologies of the System.
On the one hand, I feel my curiosity growing, on the other, I don't feel in the right mood.
It's best if I pay my respects to my father right away.
I'm about to go back inside, my foot caressing the stone floor.
Ci-cin.
Blop!
This sound…
It's time.
It's about to happen, there's no time to waste.
I walk down the porch steps and feel desert ash between my toes.
Blop, blop, bloop, bloop…
I look up at the sky.
A black sky, dotted with bodies in various states of decomposition. They are slightly luminescent, separated floating at various depths in the cosmic darkness.
This is the most isolated point in the universe and only the ring of perpetual twilight brings light. That and the filaments and lightning of the sky.
I find bubbles in the gelatinous atmosphere.
Blop-blo-bloop…
They increase in frequency.
Who among them is about to descend?
In the black sky, there is a drop falling.
Ci-cin!
Oh!
Emotion.
Curiosity.
This is the first creature that I will have to judge to accompany it towards eternal sleep.
The drop of black pitch falls far away in the desert.
[Dungeon path] envelops me and I reappear among the sands beyond the horizon.
In front of me, a quadruped emerges from the tar patch.
“Auhh… Auuuhhh!”
The creature lets out a howl and then falls back into the pitch.
I feel a little sorry, it has decomposed skin and some exposed bones.
I bring my hand closer to its muzzle, but the animal snorts.
[Scan] allows me to consult its statistics.
[lv: 4] [xp: 25]
[name: ?]
[type: Dog]
[job: Predator]
[hp: 13]
[c: 1][s: 3]
[ip: 23]
[d: 2][s: 3]
[malus: Deceased]
Poor, it is weak.
My father taught me this: when a body arrives here, it is in opposition to its condition on the planet it belongs to.
Thus, in the atmospheric membrane, it is usual for bodies to start as decomposed blobs. Eventually, they take on a more or less consistent appearance and become too heavy.
So, they fall.
Unaware of the imminent eternal sleep that will befall them.
Ci-cin.
The snake-headed tail shakes.
I don't know what [ip] means, but now is not the time to worry about it.
“Come, are you hungry?”
It is good practice to offer comfort to the dead, respecting their being. Only bacteria and other microscopic beings answer to other gods. I have no power to host them.
The dog looks at me with glassy eyes.
It tries to wag its tail but can't get up.
“Wait.”
I use [Dungeon path] to return to the frontier house.
The chessboard is still on the low table and the two cushions are on the floor.
I open the door onto the veranda and enter the humble room.
I open the wooden cupboard take out some bone berries, and then use [Dungeon path] again.
The nameless dog didn't move.
I bend down and offer the berries with the palm of my hand.
Maybe it's my nails or my tails, but the animal doesn't trust it and backs away.
Sigh.
I'm sorry that it can't feel at ease.
My father definitely would have done a better job. Ten thousand years of experience…
I place my hand on its head. This time it doesn't react, maybe it's just too weak.
I'm ready.
It is the moment.
I feel the energy flowing down my spine. A flow that runs to the tips of my fingers.
My eyes begin to emit will-o'-the-wisps that alter the color of things. Everything becomes bluish, light blue, full of light.
I use [Judgment].
…
[Judgment: Dream]
Sigh of relief. The anxiety goes away.
It is a positive judgment.
[Dream] indicates that the body will disperse into an eternity of wonderful dreams.
I'm sure it deserves it.
Rightly so.
For creatures under [lv: 5], the Underwasteland dungeon remains closed. Therefore, the animal closes its eyes and begins to turn into ash.
More ash for the infinite desert.
I feel its pungent fragrance disappear. But I keep my hand on my head as long as I can.
The cold hand of a quiet death.
Only the dead have a smell in this place and, although it is often unpleasant, I like that they leave this trace of their passage.
Rest and have good dreams.