CHAPTER 10: RISING THREATS
The air was sharp and cold as John, Freya, and Eirik trudged along the frost-covered path leading to Frostholm. The sun hung low, casting a dim orange glow over the snow-covered fields surrounding the village. The Heartstone tucked inside John’s pack pulsed faintly, its warmth a stark contrast to the icy wind biting at their faces. Each step felt heavier than the last, exhaustion clinging to them after the chaos of the Icespire Caverns.
As the wooden palisades of Frostholm came into view, John exhaled in relief. The familiar sight of the village, though modest and weather-worn, felt like a sanctuary after their harrowing journey. Smoke curled lazily from chimneys, and the faint hum of life carried on the wind.
Freya adjusted her axe on her shoulder, her gaze scanning the perimeter. “Looks quiet,” she muttered, though her tone held an edge of caution.
“Too quiet,” Eirik added, his sharp eyes narrowing as he studied the gates.
John’s stomach churned as they neared the entrance. The gates, once sturdy, bore fresh scars, splintered wood and hastily repaired sections. Inside, the village looked battered. Several huts showed signs of damage, their roofs patched with uneven planks, and a broken cart lay abandoned near the smithy.
A few villagers spotted them from the fields and hurried back toward the gates, their faces lighting up with recognition. By the time the trio stepped through the gates, a small crowd had gathered, their expressions a mix of relief and curiosity.
“They’re back!” a young boy shouted, his voice carrying over the growing murmur.
John felt a wave of awkwardness as the villagers’ attention turned to him. They looked at Freya and Eirik with gratitude, but their eyes lingered on him, filled with something more, hope.
“Freya!” a burly man called, stepping forward. His rough hands still held a hammer, his face streaked with soot. “You made it. We feared the worst after the attacks.”
“We’re fine,” Freya replied, her tone brisk but warm. “What’s the situation here, Halrik?”
The man hesitated, glancing at John. “Another raid. Bigger than the last. We managed to drive them off, but… it’s getting worse.”
John felt the weight of the villagers’ stares intensify. They were waiting for him to speak, to reassure them, though he barely felt qualified. He cleared his throat. “We’re back with more than just stories,” he said, patting the pack that held the Heartstone. “This… this will help us fight back. I promise.”
The villagers exchanged murmurs, their skepticism mingling with cautious hope. Freya stepped forward, her voice firm. “He’s right. What we found out there is going to change things. But we need to prepare. This isn’t over.”
A faint chime echoed in John’s mind, the familiar system interface flashing before him.
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[QUEST COMPLETE: INTO THE SHADOWS]
* Objectives Completed:
* Reach the Ruins of Dægra’s Hollow.
* Uncover the origins of the Black Warden’s power.
* Return with knowledge or relics to aid the village.
* Rewards:
* Experience: +800 XP
* Reputation: +15 (Village)
* Rare Skill Unlock: Soul Anchor Available
Progress to Level 5: 1550/1800
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John felt a surge of energy as the system acknowledged their success. The Soul Anchor skill appeared in his menu, its description glowing faintly in his peripheral vision. He resisted the urge to smile. This was progress, tangible and real.
“We’ve got work to do,” John said, addressing the villagers with as much confidence as he could muster. “The Warden’s forces are gathering, but we’re not going to wait for them to come to us. We’ll be ready.”
The murmurs grew louder, but Halrik nodded. “You’ve given us a chance, Bone Caller. That’s more than we had before.”
As the crowd began to disperse, Freya leaned closer to John. “Not bad. You’re starting to sound like a leader.”
John snorted. “Fake it till you make it, right?”
Freya chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. “Keep faking it. The village needs someone to believe in right now. And for what it’s worth, I’m starting to believe it too.”
John’s chest tightened at her words, but he managed a small nod. They had made it back, but the weight of what lay ahead pressed heavily on him. As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows over Frostholm, John resolved to make good on his promise to the villagers, and to himself.
That night, the longhouse was quiet save for the faint crackle of the dying fire in the hearth. Shadows danced along the wooden walls, their flickering shapes mirroring John’s restless thoughts. He sat hunched over a crude wooden table, the Book of Forgotten Tides spread open before him. Beside it, the Heartstone pulsed with a faint golden light, casting an eerie glow that made the runes on the Book’s surface seem alive.
John ran a hand through his hair, his exhaustion etched into his face. The Book’s pages shimmered as the runes rearranged themselves into words he could understand, responding to his unspoken questions.
“The Warden’s power grows. His reach extends beyond the grave, binding the living and the dead. Frostholm will not be spared. Prepare or perish.”
The words chilled him more than the winter air that seeped through the cracks in the longhouse walls. John rubbed his temples as the Book continued, its tone as cold and detached as ever.
“The Warden rallies the lost: raiders driven by desperation, undead bound by his will. This army moves not for plunder but for purpose. Frostholm stands in their path.”
A faint chime sounded in John’s mind, and the familiar system interface flickered into view.
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[SYSTEM UPDATE: WARDEN’S STRATEGY DISCOVERED]
* Objective: Strengthen Frostholm’s defenses and repel the first wave of the Warden’s forces.
* Warning: The Warden’s influence grows stronger with each passing day.
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John exhaled slowly, leaning back in his chair. “So it’s not just a question of if,” he muttered, “it’s when.” He glanced at the Heartstone, its steady glow a sharp contrast to the growing chaos he could feel pressing in on the village.
The door creaked open, and John instinctively closed the Book, its glow fading as Freya stepped inside. She carried a wooden tray balanced on one arm, her blonde braid catching the firelight. The faint smile on her lips was the only warmth in the room.
“Thought you’d still be awake,” she said, setting the tray in front of him. “Figured you’d need this.”
John glanced at the tray: a bowl of steaming stew and a thick hunk of bread. He gave her a tired smile. “Thanks. Not sure how you knew.”
“You’re predictable,” she teased, pulling up a stool and sitting across from him. “Always overthinking, always forgetting to eat.”
John took a tentative bite of the bread, savoring the warmth it brought to his chilled fingers. Freya’s eyes wandered to the Heartstone, and her playful expression faded.
“That thing still gives me the creeps,” she admitted. “It’s beautiful, but... I don’t know. It feels alive.”
John nodded. “It’s not just a rock, that’s for sure. The Book’s pretty clear about what it means to the Warden. It’s a weapon and a target, all in one.”
Freya leaned back, studying him. “You’ve been at this nonstop since we got back. Trying to figure out what’s next?”
John hesitated, then nodded. “The Warden’s building an army. Raiders, undead, whatever he can get his hands on. And he’s not doing it randomly, he’s aiming for this village.”
Freya’s lips pressed into a thin line, her fingers tapping the edge of the table. “Why Frostholm? What’s so special about this place?”
“I don’t know yet,” John admitted, his voice quiet. “But the Book says it’s part of his plan. We’re in the way of something bigger.”
Freya was silent for a moment before leaning forward. “You’ve done more for this village than anyone could have asked, John. But this... it’s not just about what you can do. It’s about what it’s doing to you.”
John looked up sharply, but her gaze wasn’t accusing, it was filled with concern. “I’m fine, Freya,” he said, though even he didn’t believe it. “This is just... what I have to do.”
“Maybe,” she said softly. “But don’t think for a second that you have to do it alone. People here are starting to believe in you, but that doesn’t mean you have to carry everything on your shoulders.”
John opened his mouth to reply, but the door creaked again, and Eirik stepped inside, his quiet presence filling the room. He leaned against the doorway, his cloak dusted with fresh snow.
“I thought I’d find you here,” Eirik said, his sharp eyes flicking to the Heartstone and the closed Book. “Figuring out the next move?”
“Something like that,” John said, shifting uncomfortably.
Eirik crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “You’re doing good work, John. But don’t let that power blind you. It’s easy to think the answers are in that book or your magic, but the people out there”, he gestured toward the door, “they need more than power. They need someone to follow.”
John frowned. “You think I’m not doing enough?”
“I think you’re doing too much,” Eirik replied evenly. “Leadership isn’t just about strength, it’s about balance. Use what you’ve got, but don’t lose sight of what matters.”
Freya nodded, surprising John. “He’s right, you know. You’ve got people who want to fight for this place, not just survive it. Let them help.”
John looked between the two of them, his defenses faltering under their combined weight. Finally, he nodded. “I’ll... try. But I don’t think the Warden’s going to wait for me to get it right.”
Eirik smirked faintly. “Then don’t waste time.”
He pushed off the doorframe and left as quietly as he’d come. Freya lingered for a moment longer, watching John with an unreadable expression. “Get some rest,” she said finally. “The Warden isn’t going to wait for you to be ready.”
The first rays of sunlight stretched across Frostholm, casting long shadows over the snow-laden village. Despite the morning's stillness, an undercurrent of tension lingered in the air, a collective unease that had settled deep into the bones of every villager. At the outskirts of the settlement, John stood with the skeletal remains of one of his summons lying at his feet.
The faint glow of the Heartstone, safely secured in a pouch at his side, pulsed in time with his own heartbeat, a subtle reminder of the burden he carried. Nearby, the system interface hovered in his vision, a glowing list of available skills and statistics providing a momentary distraction.
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[SYSTEM MENU]
Skill Points Available: 1
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John smirked to himself. Something to think about later. For now, his focus was on testing Soul Anchor, the skill unlocked after completing their harrowing mission to the Icespire Caverns.
He activated Raise Undead, and with a faint hum of necromantic energy, the skeleton’s shattered remains rose from the ground.
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[RAISE UNDEAD ACTIVATED]
Mana Cost: 20
Remaining Mana: 90
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The skeleton reassembled itself with mechanical precision, its hollow eyes glowing faintly as it awaited instructions.
“Okay, buddy,” John muttered, stepping back. “Let’s see what happens when we make you a little more... permanent.”
Closing his eyes, John focused his energy, channeling the dark power of Soul Anchor. The spell activated with an audible hum, and glowing runes etched themselves across the skeleton’s bones like veins of molten gold. A faint mist of necrotic energy seeped into the air, swirling around the skeleton and binding its pieces together with a stability John had never seen before.
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[SOUL ANCHOR ACTIVATED]
Mana Cost: 20
Remaining Mana: 70
Effect: Stabilizes summoned undead, prevents degradation over time, and enhances compatibility for complex creations.
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John opened his eyes, watching the transformation with quiet awe. The skeleton stood taller, its movements no longer jerky or hesitant. Its bones shimmered faintly, the glowing runes radiating a steady light that gave it an almost noble presence.
“Not bad,” John murmured, tilting his head. “Not bad at all.”
He pointed toward a nearby boulder. “Move that.”
The skeleton obeyed immediately, striding toward the boulder with surprising agility. Its hands gripped the frozen surface, and with a deep groan, it shoved the massive rock aside, leaving a furrow in the snow.
John laughed softly, the possibilities racing through his mind. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”
Behind him, a voice broke the stillness. “Are we testing your newest abomination already?”
John turned to see Freya and Eirik approaching, both armed and clearly curious. Freya’s braided hair shimmered with frost, her blue eyes narrowing as she studied the glowing skeleton.
“I wouldn’t call it an abomination,” John said, grinning. “More like an upgrade.”
Freya stopped a few feet away, her expression flickering between curiosity and unease. “It’s glowing. And it just moved a rock twice its weight.”
“Yeah,” John said, gesturing toward the skeleton. “Soul Anchor stabilizes it. No more crumbling mid-battle. It’s faster, stronger, and better at following orders. Watch this.”
He pointed to a nearby tree. “Run to that tree and back.”
The skeleton bolted forward, its movements smooth and deliberate. It reached the tree in moments and returned just as quickly, stopping in front of John with precision.
Freya blinked. “Okay, I’ll admit, that’s impressive. But... glowing skeletons? Not exactly subtle.”
“Subtlety Isn't the goal,” John said. “Effectiveness is. This one won’t degrade over time, and it can hold up to actual combat.”
Eirik stepped closer, his sharp eyes studying the runes along the skeleton’s bones. “Stronger, yes. But what about durability?”
Without waiting for permission, Eirik drew his sword and slashed at the skeleton’s arm. The glowing construct raised its forearm, blocking the blade with a sharp clang. Eirik stepped back, sheathing his weapon with a faint smirk.
“Better than I expected,” he said. “But don’t let this new power blind you. If something can be created, it can be destroyed.”
Freya snorted. “You’re just annoyed you didn’t break it.”
“Maybe,” Eirik replied, though his tone was humorless.
John frowned, Eirik’s words sticking in his mind. “You think I’m over-relying on this?”
“I think you’re pushing boundaries,” Eirik said. “And every time you do, there’s a risk. Just be certain you know where the line is before you cross it.”
Freya rolled her eyes. “And what’s the alternative? Let the raiders walk all over us? This is exactly what we need.” She clapped John on the shoulder, her grin wide. “You’ve earned this one, Bone Caller.”
John looked back at the skeleton, pride swelling in his chest despite Eirik’s caution. He had unlocked something new, something powerful. And while he understood the risks, he also knew the village needed every advantage they could muster.
“This is only the beginning,” he said softly, watching as the skeleton stood at attention. “We’re just getting started.”
The crisp morning air carried a faint chill as John stood in the village outskirts, a wide, snow-dusted field now serving as his workshop. Spread before him were the components of his ambitious experiment: fractured bones scavenged from past battles, shards of tarnished armor, and the hilt of a shattered greatsword. Each piece represented a fragment of something broken, but together, they had the potential to become something far greater.
John exhaled deeply, the Book of Forgotten Tides resting open beside him on a makeshift stone altar. Its glowing runes shifted as if responding to his thoughts, feeding him fragments of guidance.
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[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
Skill in Use: SOUL ANCHOR
Guidance Available: Creating an Advanced Necromantic Construct.
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He knelt and placed a skeletal hand on a thigh bone. His mind buzzed with the intricacies of what he was about to attempt, a process the Book had called "Amalgamation." It was complex, risky, and unlike anything he had done before. But with the Soul Anchor skill stabilizing the undead, he was confident he could pull it off.
"All right," John muttered, flexing his fingers. "Let's see if this works."
He started by carefully arranging the bones in a rough outline of the form he envisioned. The ribcage of one skeleton lay at the center, while the reinforced femurs of another formed the foundation for the legs. The greatsword's hilt rested in the center, its blade replaced with shards of enchanted steel he had scavenged from the raiders’ armor.
“Think of it as skeleton Frankenstein,” John quipped to himself, though his focus never wavered.
The runes in the Book began to glow brighter, responding to his intent. The pages flipped on their own, stopping on a diagram of a towering skeletal figure adorned with mystical symbols.
John raised his hands, calling forth his necromantic energy. His voice dropped into a low murmur, reciting the incantation the Book revealed.
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[ACTIVATING SOUL ANCHOR: AMALGAMATION MODE]
Mana Cost: 40
Remaining Mana: 30
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The bones trembled, a dark mist swirling around them as the magic took hold. Sparks of necrotic energy leapt between the pieces, binding them together. The runes from the Book mirrored themselves onto the skeleton's form, etching glowing patterns along its reinforced frame.
“Come on, hold together,” John whispered, sweat forming on his brow despite the cold.
The ribcage fused with the spine, and the femurs snapped into place with a resounding crack. The skeletal arms, constructed from overlapping bones, extended outward, each movement unnervingly fluid. The skull, crowned with fragments of raider helmets, settled atop the construct, its sockets glowing with faintly aware, blue fire.
The energy surged again, and the greatsword fused into the skeletal champion’s hand, its jagged edges shimmering with a faint ethereal glow. John channeled Soul Anchor one last time, stabilizing the entire amalgam.
With a final surge of dark mist, the skeletal champion rose to its full height, a towering, menacing figure plated with salvaged armor. Its glowing eyes fixed on John, awaiting commands. The air crackled as the process completed.
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[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
New Minion Created: Skeletal Champion
Attributes: Enhanced Strength, Durability, and Limited Tactical Awareness.
Minion Type: Persistent Construct.
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John took a step back, wiping his forehead. The skeletal champion loomed over him, its head almost brushing the snow-laden branches of a nearby tree. Its movements were deliberate and controlled as it hefted the reforged greatsword with ease.
“Well,” John said, catching his breath, “you’re officially the most terrifying thing I’ve ever made.”
Behind him, a sharp intake of breath drew his attention. Freya and Eirik had arrived, standing a few paces away, their expressions a mix of awe and unease.
“That’s…” Freya began, trailing off as her eyes swept over the construct. “That’s incredible, John. It looks... alive.”
“It’s not,” John said quickly, though the faint flicker of intelligence in the champion’s glowing eyes gave him pause. “But it is stronger. Smarter. And it won’t fall apart when the fighting starts.”
Freya stepped closer, circling the champion. Her fingers brushed the edge of its armor. “This could change everything. Raiders won’t stand a chance against something like this.”
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Eirik, however, remained where he was, his gaze sharp and his voice low. “You’re playing with fire.”
John turned to him, frowning. “This isn’t like before. Soul Anchor keeps it stable. It’s not going to turn on us, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“That’s not the point,” Eirik said, his eyes narrowing. “The more power you draw, the more the Warden will notice. And if you start creating monsters like this, what’s to stop him from doing the same?”
Freya crossed her arms, shooting Eirik a glare. “We don’t have the luxury of worrying about that right now. This is exactly what we need to defend Frostholm.”
“Maybe,” Eirik said, his tone cautious. “Just remember: power always comes with a cost.”
John looked back at the skeletal champion, its silent form an imposing reminder of his growing abilities. For a moment, he felt a pang of doubt, Eirik’s words echoing in his mind. But the villagers needed him strong, and this construct was proof that he could rise to the challenge.
“Thanks for the pep talk,” John said, turning to face them. “But if the Warden’s coming, we’re going to need every edge we can get. And this.” he gestured to the champion, “ is an edge.”
Freya smiled faintly. “You’re right. This thing’s going to scare the hell out of anyone dumb enough to attack us.”
Eirik gave a reluctant nod, though his wariness lingered. “Just don’t lose yourself in it, John.”
As the skeletal champion moved to stand guard at John’s command, its greatsword resting on its shoulder, Freya patted John on the arm. “You’ve come a long way, Bone Caller. Don’t stop now.”
John watched as the champion took its place, its glowing eyes scanning the horizon like a sentinel. For the first time, he felt not just like a survivor but a creator of something extraordinary.
The Warden might be watching, he thought, but let him watch. We’re ready.
The skeletal champion stood at the village gate like a silent guardian, its towering frame and glowing eyes a stark contrast to the rustic wooden palisade. Snow swirled around its feet as villagers passed, their reactions ranging from wide-eyed awe to nervous glances. The sight of the champion, armed with its massive greatsword, was both a comfort and a reminder of the dangers looming beyond the walls.
John adjusted his patched cloak as he approached the gate, noting how the villagers' conversations hushed when he came near. He couldn’t blame them, leading undead patrols wasn’t exactly traditional protection. He gave the skeletal champion a brief nod.
“Guard this entrance. Let nothing through without my say,” John instructed, his voice steady.
The champion’s glowing eyes flared briefly in acknowledgment. It shifted slightly, the greatsword resting heavily against its armored shoulder.
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[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
Command Assigned: Skeletal Champion
Status: Persistent Guarding Active.
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Freya appeared beside John, her axe slung over her shoulder. She glanced at the champion and smirked. “You know, you’re starting to make Bjorn look like a housecat.”
“Good,” John said, scanning the village. “If this thing makes them think twice about attacking, it’s doing its job.”
Freya chuckled, then gestured to a group of villagers gathered near the longhouse. “Come on. They’re waiting.”
The longhouse was alive with activity. Villagers clustered in small groups, sharpening spears, reinforcing armor, and organizing supplies. Despite their efforts, the tension in the air was palpable. John stepped to the center of the room, Freya and Eirik flanking him.
“All right, listen up!” John called, his voice cutting through the din. The villagers turned to him, their expressions a mix of hope and skepticism. “The Warden’s forces are moving, and we’re not waiting for them to come knocking. We’re going to make this village a fortress.”
He turned to Freya. “Start training anyone who can hold a weapon. Teach them formations, basic strikes, anything to keep them alive.”
Freya nodded, her expression sharp. “Got it. You’re sparring too, Bone Caller. Don’t think I’m letting you off easy.”
John smirked faintly, then faced Eirik. “I need you out there, scouting the surrounding woods. If the raiders are close, I want to know exactly where and how many.”
Eirik gave a curt nod. “Consider it done.”
John addressed the villagers again. “We’re setting up layers of defense. The main gate will hold them off, but if it falls, we need fallback points. I’ll assign skeletons to key positions, and I’ll be reinforcing them with my magic. Stick together, listen to Freya and Eirik, and we’ll get through this.”
The villagers murmured among themselves, some nodding, others exchanging uncertain looks. One older man, his weathered face lined with worry, stepped forward. “And what about... your creations? How can we trust they won’t turn on us?”
Later, in the small council chamber of the longhouse, John faced the village elders. Freya and Eirik stood behind him, their presence a silent show of support. The elders, five in total, sat in a semicircle, their expressions ranging from wary to outright disapproving.
“You’re asking us to put our faith in... necromancy,” one elder said, his voice trembling. “The same magic the Warden uses to destroy everything in his path.”
“I understand your fear,” John replied, his tone calm but firm. “But this isn’t the Warden’s power, it’s mine. And I’m using it to protect this village, not destroy it.”
A woman with iron-gray hair leaned forward. “And what happens when you lose control? When these... things you’ve summoned decide we’re the enemy?”
John hesitated for a fraction of a second before speaking. “That won’t happen. I’ve stabilized every undead under my command. They’re bound to me, and they follow my orders without question.”
The elders exchanged glances, their skepticism clear. One of them began to speak, but Freya stepped forward, cutting him off.
“Enough,” she said, her voice sharp. “John’s power is the reason we’re still standing. He didn’t summon himself here, but he’s done nothing but fight for this village since he arrived. If you want to keep questioning him, fine. But do it after we survive.”
The room fell silent. The elders exchanged another round of uneasy looks before the iron-haired woman spoke again. “Very well. But if your creations turn on us, the blood will be on your hands.”
Outside, John walked along the walls, inspecting the defenses with Freya. She barked orders to a group of villagers practicing with wooden spears, their movements clumsy but determined. Nearby, a team worked to fortify a barricade with sharpened stakes and bracing beams.
In another corner of the village, John paused to direct a pair of skeletons. Their glowing eyes scanned for threats as they carried heavy timbers into place. With a gesture, he activated Soul Anchor, stabilizing their forms for long-term use.
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[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
Skill Activated: SOUL ANCHOR
Stabilized Minions: +2
Mana Cost: 40
Remaining Mana: 80
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Freya joined him, watching as the skeletons worked. “They listen better than most villagers,” she said with a smirk.
“They don’t complain, either,” John replied. He glanced at her. “How’s the training going?”
Freya sighed, watching a young boy awkwardly thrust a spear at a straw dummy. “They’re eager, but they’re no warriors. Most of them haven’t even seen a real fight.”
“They’ll fight for their home,” John said. “That’s more than the raiders can say.”
Freya studied him for a moment, her expression softening. “You’re doing good, Bone Caller. They’re starting to believe in you.”
“Let’s hope it’s enough,” John said quietly, looking out at the snow-covered forest beyond the walls. “Because the Warden isn’t waiting for us to get ready.”
Eirik appeared at their side, his cloak dusted with snow. His face was grim. “Raiders are assembling in the north. It’s only a matter of time.”
John exhaled sharply, his mind racing. “Then we make sure we’re ready when they come.”
Freya gripped his arm, her smile faint but confident. “We’ve got this. You’ve given them hope, John. Now let’s give them a reason to fight.”
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Frostholm bustled with activity. Villagers worked side by side, their fear tempered by determination. And at the gate, the skeletal champion stood silent and unyielding, a promise of the strength they would bring to the coming battle.
The moon cast its pale light over Frostholm, illuminating the snow-covered village in a cold, silver glow. John walked the perimeter of the palisade with Freya at his side, their boots crunching softly on the frosted ground. The skeletal champion stood at its assigned post, its greatsword gleaming faintly in the moonlight. Villagers moved between watchfires, their expressions wary but resolute as they prepared for the looming threat.
Freya glanced at John, her breath visible in the frigid air. “You’ve been working non-stop, Bone Caller. How long’s it been since you slept?”
John shrugged, his shoulders heavy under his patched cloak. “Sleep can wait. If I stop, who’s going to keep all of this together?” He gestured toward the walls, the bustling villagers, and the skeletons patrolling alongside them.
Freya smirked faintly but then stopped, resting a hand on his arm. “You’re pushing yourself too hard. The village isn’t just relying on your power, John. They’re relying on you. If you burn out, what then?”
John paused, looking down at the frost-covered ground. “I didn’t ask to be the one they relied on, Freya. I don’t even know if I’m doing the right thing half the time. But I know the Warden won’t wait for me to figure it out.”
Freya’s voice softened. “And yet, you’re still here. You’ve given these people something they’ve been missing for years, hope. Even if you don’t see it, they do.”
John met her gaze, the tension in his chest easing slightly at her words. “Hope’s a fragile thing. What if I can’t hold it together?”
Freya smiled, her usual sharpness replaced with something warmer. “Then we’ll hold it together. You’re not in this alone, Bone Caller. Don’t forget that.”
They continued their patrol in companionable silence, the soft glow of watchfires outlining the village. Freya broke the quiet, her tone more contemplative. “You ever wonder about this world? About the system? How it decides who gets summoned, who survives, and who doesn’t?”
“All the time,” John admitted. “I’ve been trying to piece it together since I got here. The system gives power, sure, but it feels... selective. Like it’s watching us. Testing us.”
Freya nodded. “The system’s been part of our lives forever, but we don’t question it much. It’s just... there. Guides us, challenges us, sometimes saves us. But it also seems to divide people.”
“How do you mean?” John asked, curious.
Freya gestured to the village. “In the summer, this place is like the raiders we fight, hunting, pillaging, surviving off what we can take. But now? In winter, we’re the ones defending, praying someone doesn’t come to take what’s ours. It’s a cycle, one the system encourages. Strength rules here, and those without it... well, they don’t last.”
John frowned. “Sounds like a brutal way to live.”
“It is,” Freya said quietly. “But for the first time in years, I feel like we might have a chance to break that cycle. Because of you.”
John’s breath caught at her words, but before he could respond, a shadow emerged from the trees.
Eirik stepped into the light of a nearby fire, his cloak dusted with snow and his expression grim. Freya and John approached him quickly.
“What did you find?” Freya asked, her voice tense.
Eirik glanced between them, his tone calm but heavy. “A warband. At least fifty strong, maybe more. Raiders, but they’re moving with precision. Too much for an ordinary band of scavengers.”
John’s stomach dropped. “The Warden.”
Eirik nodded. “Most likely. His influence is spreading, pulling groups like this together under his banner. If they march here, it won’t just be a raid, it’ll be an invasion.”
As Eirik finished, John’s system interface flared into view, its glowing text clear against the dark.
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[QUEST: DEFEND FROSTHOLM]
Objectives:
* Strengthen defenses.
* Repel the first wave of raiders.
* Protect the village from annihilation.
Rewards:
* +1,200 XP
* Rare Defensive Structure Unlock
* Village Reputation: +20
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John dismissed the notification, his mind racing. “Fifty raiders. That’s more than we can handle with what we have.”
Freya’s jaw tightened. “Then we make sure they never get past the gate.”
John’s gaze shifted to the Heartstone resting in his satchel. The artifact pulsed faintly, its golden light casting flickering shadows on the snow. As he stared at it, a faint hum resonated in his ears, a connection he hadn’t fully explored yet. He pulled the Heartstone free, holding it in his palm, and felt a surge of warmth course through his body, countering the chill of the night.
Freya and Eirik noticed the change. Freya stepped closer, curiosity and unease mingling in her voice. “What is it doing?”
“I’m not sure,” John admitted, his eyes fixed on the glowing artifact. “But it’s... showing me something.”
The system interface flared to life in his vision, overlaid with new options that hadn’t been visible before. The Heartstone’s presence seemed to unlock a deeper connection with the system, revealing potential upgrades tied to his necromantic powers and the village itself.
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[HEARTSTONE INTERFACE ACTIVATED]
The Heartstone enhances your connection to the system, enabling advanced upgrades and magical enhancements.
Available Upgrades:
1. Minion Cap Expansion
Effect: Increases the number of active minions by +5 for every skill point invested.
Current Minion Cap: 5.
Upgrade Cost: 1 Skill Point
2. Village Ward (Passive Upgrade)
Effect: Channels Heartstone energy into a defensive barrier around Frostholm, reducing damage from incoming attacks by 10%.
Upgrade Cost: 1 Skill Point
3. Enhanced Bone Constructs
Effect: Improves summoned minions’ durability and strength, making them more effective in combat.
Upgrade Cost: 1 Skill Point
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John’s eyes widened as he scrolled through the options, his mind racing. “The Heartstone isn’t just a tool, it’s a catalyst. It can enhance the village defenses or even boost my abilities.”
Eirik leaned closer, his gaze flicking between John and the Heartstone. “What are you thinking?”
John gestured to the first option. “Minion Cap Expansion. My original limit is five skeletons at a time. If I invest a skill point, I can raise that to ten. With the Soul Anchor stabilizing them, they won’t degrade, which means we can rely on them for long-term tasks.”
Freya tilted her head. “Ten skeletons? That’s... a small army. You could have patrols, guards, and even a reserve force for emergencies.”
John nodded, the possibilities sparking in his mind. “And the champion won’t have to carry the burden alone. I could assign skeletons to critical points in the village while keeping others ready to respond to breaches or attacks.”
Eirik crossed his arms, his tone thoughtful. “What about the other upgrades? That defensive ward could protect the village as a whole.”
“It could,” John said, glancing at the second option. “But it’s only a ten percent reduction in damage, and we don’t know how strong the raiders’ attacks will be. Expanding the minion cap gives us more flexibility.”
Freya smirked. “Not to mention, it lets you flex those necromancer muscles.”
John chuckled. “Something like that.”
After a moment’s deliberation, he selected the Minion Cap Expansion, the system chiming softly as the upgrade activated.
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[SKILL UNLOCKED: MINION CAP EXPANSION]
Effect: Increases the number of active minions by +5.
Current Minion Cap: 10.
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The rush of energy that followed was unlike anything John had felt before. It wasn’t just his power increasing, it was a sense of control, a clarity about how to manage his growing abilities.
Freya placed a hand on his shoulder, her voice steady. “Looks like you’ve got what you need. Now let’s put it to good use.”
John slipped the Heartstone back into his satchel, his resolve solidifying. “With ten skeletons and the champion, we’ll have enough to cover every vulnerable point. Let’s make sure the raiders regret coming here.”
As the trio dispersed to finalize their preparations, John couldn’t help but marvel at the Heartstone’s potential. It wasn’t just a relic, it was the key to turning Frostholm into a fortress, and perhaps the only hope they had against the Warden’s growing shadow.
As Freya and Eirik headed off to finalize their respective tasks, John lingered in the quiet of the night, his gaze drifting to the Heartstone once more. Its steady pulse seemed to echo the rhythm of his thoughts. He clenched his fist, a newfound determination coursing through him.
“If I’m going to raise the cap,” John muttered to himself, “I’d better make sure every single one of those skeletons is ready for battle.”
He moved to the outskirts of the village, where a pile of bones recovered from the battlefield had been stored. Taking a deep breath, he raised his hands and began summoning.
One by one, the skeletons emerged from the frozen earth, their forms sturdier and more cohesive thanks to the Soul Anchor. The faint glow of necrotic energy in their eyes gave them an unsettling presence, but to John, they looked like soldiers waiting for orders.
Once he had reached the full complement of ten skeletons, John turned his attention to equipping them. He scoured the village’s weapon stores and scavenged gear from the defeated raiders. Axes, shields, and spears, weathered but serviceable, were distributed among the skeletal warriors. He even found scraps of fur cloaks and helmets, dressing his minions to resemble Viking raiders. By the time he finished, they looked less like brittle constructs and more like an eerie, disciplined fighting force.
John stepped back, studying his work as the skeletal champion loomed beside him like a commander overseeing its troops. He couldn’t help but feel a flicker of pride.
“Not bad,” he murmured, exhaustion tugging at him but unable to quell his satisfaction. “We’ll see how the raiders like facing their worst nightmare.”
With his forces ready, John turned toward the village, the skeletal warriors following silently behind him. He decided to rest for what little of the night remained, knowing that tomorrow would test everything they had prepared for.
The next day, the longhouse was a frenzy of activity, the clatter of hurried footsteps and raised voices mingling with the crackle of the central hearth. A scout stumbled inside, his face pale and his breath ragged, the door banging shut behind him.
“Raiders! Over fifty, coming from the north!” he gasped, collapsing onto one knee.
The room froze, a palpable wave of fear sweeping through the gathered villagers. Panicked murmurs filled the air, talk of fleeing, surrendering, or preparing to die.
John slammed his spear into the wooden floor with a sharp crack. The noise silenced the chaos as all eyes turned to him.
“No one is running,” he said, his voice firm and steady. “We’ve prepared for this. We’re stronger than we’ve ever been. And together, we’ll show them that Frostholm doesn’t fall.”
Freya stepped to his side, her axe gleaming in the firelight. “He’s right. If we stand together, we can drive them back. Let’s get to work.”
John quickly took charge, dividing the villagers into roles with calm precision.
“Hunters, get to the walls. Pick your targets carefully. We’ll funnel them into choke points,” he instructed, motioning to the builders. “Reinforce the barricades. Place caltrops at the narrow paths leading to the gate.”
He turned to a group of non-combatants, their faces etched with fear. “You’re not fighting, but you’re just as important. Set up a first-aid station by the longhouse and keep supplies ready. The wounded will need you.”
The villagers moved with renewed purpose, their fear replaced by a flicker of determination.
John positioned his skeletal champion at the weakest section of the wall, its towering frame an intimidating presence. The other nine skeletons were assigned to patrol the village perimeter, their eerie silence lending an air of vigilance.
Freya and Eirik stepped forward, ready to lead their own squads.
“Freya, take the south flank. Keep them off the walls. Eirik, you’ve got the west, watch for anyone trying to circle around,” John said.
They nodded, their trust in him evident.
The night fell silent save for the crunch of approaching footsteps and the distant clatter of weapons. Then, with a guttural war cry, the raiders emerged from the darkness, torches blazing in their hands.
The first wave charged the main gate, wielding a makeshift battering ram. Others swarmed the walls, using ladders to scale the defenses.
John’s hands glowed faintly as he cast Bone Wall, reinforcing the gate with jagged barriers of skeletal remains.
[BONE WALL ACTIVATED]
Mana Cost: 30
Remaining Mana: 90
The ram slammed into the barrier, but the improvised defense slowed their progress. Above, hunters loosed arrows into the attackers, their aim sharpened by John’s earlier training sessions.
“Hold the gate!” John shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos.
At the walls, Freya led her squad in repelling the climbers. Her axe swung with practiced ferocity, splintering a ladder and sending raiders tumbling to the ground. Eirik’s team held the west flank, his precise arrows picking off raiders before they reached the walls.
At the weakest point of the wall, the skeletal champion charged forward, cutting down raiders with devastating efficiency. Its reforged greatsword cleaved through enemies, while its plated armor deflected desperate strikes.
The villagers fighting nearby watched in awe as the champion shielded them, its movements deliberate and tactical. Their morale surged, and they pushed back with renewed vigor.
A section of the eastern wall gave way under the raiders’ assault, opening a path into the village. John sprinted to the breach, rallying a group of villagers to hold the line.
“Form up!” he barked. “Don’t let them through!”
He cast Death Lash, dark tendrils whipping out to disarm a raider charging toward the gap.
[DEATH LASH ACTIVATED]
Mana Cost: 15
Remaining Mana: 75
The villagers lunged forward with salvaged weapons, striking down the disoriented attackers. Behind them, two of John’s skeletons flanked the raiders, their rusted swords carving through the invaders’ ranks.
“Keep pushing!” John yelled, his spear thrusting into another raider.
As the battle raged, the raiders made a desperate charge at the main gate, their ram battering the weakened Bone Wall.
John, out of mana, scanned the battlefield for an alternative. His eyes landed on a pile of frozen logs stacked precariously above the gate.
“Freya!” he shouted, pointing to the logs. “Bring them down!”
Freya grinned, barreling through the melee. She slammed her axe into the supports, and with a deafening crash, the logs tumbled onto the raiders below. The invaders’ charge faltered as chaos erupted among their ranks.
Seizing the opportunity, John raised his spear. “Now! Drive them back!”
The villagers surged forward, their shouts ringing through the night. Skeletons led the charge, their relentless assault scattering the remaining raiders.
The raiders retreated into the darkness, leaving behind their dead and wounded. The villagers stood victorious, battered but triumphant.
John gathered them near the longhouse, his voice carrying over the crowd. “You fought with courage. You defended your home, and tonight, you showed them that Frostholm isn’t a target, it’s a fortress.”
Cheers erupted, the villagers’ trust in him solidified. Freya clapped him on the back, her exhaustion unable to dim her smile. “You didn’t just lead them, you gave them hope.”
John watched as the villagers tended to the wounded and began repairing the defenses. Despite their victory, a heaviness settled in his chest. The Warden’s influence was growing, and this was only the beginning.
As the first rays of dawn pierced the horizon, John leaned heavily on his spear, watching as the skeletal champion returned to the gate. Its massive form stood like a sentinel, glowing faintly in the pale morning light. Around him, the villagers worked tirelessly, patching walls and gathering the wounded.
The chaos of the night ebbed into a quiet stillness. Despite the toll, they had survived. And for the first time, John allowed himself to exhale. His system chimed faintly in his vision, signaling the completion of their desperate struggle.
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[QUEST SUCCESSFUL: DEFEND FROSTHOLM]
Objectives Completed:
* Strengthen defenses ✔
* Repel the first wave of raiders ✔
* Protect the village ✔
Rewards:
* Experience Gained: +1,200
* Reputation (Village): +20
* New Skills Available
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The familiar glow of the system interface expanded as a cascade of experience updates rolled in.
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Experience Gained from Combat:
* Raiders defeated by skeletons: 15 x 50 XP = +750
* Raiders defeated by direct actions: +250
* Strategic Leadership Bonus: +100
* Clever Use of Environmental Traps Bonus: +50
Total Experience Gained: +2,350
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A celebratory chime rang softly in his ears, followed by the much-anticipated notification:
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[LEVEL UP!]
Level: 4 → 5
Skill Points Gained: +3
Attribute Points Gained: +2
[NEW SKILLS AVAILABLE]
The system now displayed a list of potential new skills to unlock, ranging from enhanced necromantic commands to defensive and tactical abilities. John made a mental note to review them later, knowing they would be critical for the battles ahead.
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John swiped the notifications aside with a faint smile, his heart lighter despite the exhaustion weighing on him. He had reached a new level, both in strength and in his role as a leader.
Freya approached, her armor dented and streaked with blood but her expression triumphant. “What’s that look for, Bone Caller? Still thinking about the next fight?”
John chuckled weakly. “Always. But right now, I’m thinking we might actually have a shot.”
She grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. “We do. Because of you.”
As Freya walked away to help the others, John took a deep breath, turning his gaze toward the skeletal champion guarding the gate. Its glowing eyes met his for a moment, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that it understood the gravity of the battle they had just fought.
He whispered to himself, “This is just the beginning, isn’t it?”
The system chimed one final time, offering a silent answer.
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[NEW QUEST AVAILABLE: WARDEN’S SHADOW]
Objective: Prepare for the Warden’s growing influence.
* Train villagers in advanced tactics.
* Expand Frostholm’s defenses.
* Investigate the Warden’s plans and disrupt his army’s assembly.
Rewards:
* Experience, Reputation, and Artifact Insight.
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John straightened, his resolve hardening. The battle for Frostholm had been a victory, but the war against the Warden was far from over.
As he retreated to his hut, John glanced at the skeletal champion standing vigil at the gate, its glowing eyes a reminder of the power he now wielded, and the responsibility that came with it.