Chapter 2: New Bones to Pick
John winced as Freya half dragged him to the ruins of what was once the village square. The flames had mostly died out, but smoke still clung to the air, mixing with the sharp scent of gore and blood.
Villagers bustled about, carrying the wounded, stamping out embers, and muttering grimly about what little they had left.
Freya plopped John onto a wooden crate that groaned under his weight. “Stay here. I’ll find someone to patch you up.”
“I’m fine,” John muttered, though his trembling legs and the pounding in his head suggested otherwise. “You know, except for the part where I accidentally summoned a skeleton army and almost passed out.”
Freya smirked, crouching to eye him. “You’re tougher than you look, Bone Caller. Most people here wouldn’t survive one spell like that, let alone a whole horde.”
John shrugged weakly. “Yeah, well, I’m built different.” He leaned back, wincing as his back hit the crate. “By the way, is it normal for the ground to feel like it’s spinning, or am I just special?”
“You’re special, all right,” she teased, standing. “Sit tight. I’ll be back.”
As she strode away, John let his head fall back and groaned. His vision blurred, and then, with a flicker, the system interface appeared again, translucent and uncomfortably cheery for how he was feeling.
[SYSTEM PROMPT]
Congratulations! You have leveled up!
* Current Level: 1 → 2
* Skill Points Gained: +3
* Attribute Points Gained: +2
John squinted at the glowing text, his lips curling into a half-smile. “Well, at least something good came out of this mess.”
The interface shifted, opening his Character Sheet.
[CHARACTER SHEET]
Name: John Harper
Class: Necromancer – Path of the Deathcaller
Level: 2
Attributes:
* Strength: 3 (”Stick to summoning, champ.”)
* Dexterity: 4 (”You might trip over air.”)
* Intelligence: 8 (“At Least you are smart”)
* Charisma: 2 (”Don’t quit your day job.”)
* Mana: 100 (Base)
Skill Points Available: 3
“Okay,” John murmured, scrolling through a list of skills. “Let’s see what I’m working with.”
[AVAILABLE SKILLS]
1. Bone Armor (Level 0): Summon skeletal plating to protect yourself. Costs 15 Mana. Duration: 1 minute.
“Not dying is a strong strategy.”
2. Gravebond (Level 0): Strengthen a single summoned skeleton, increasing its speed and damage. Costs 10 Mana per use.
“Make one minion less terrible.”
3. Corpse Sense (Level 0): Passively detect corpses within a 20-foot radius. Costs no Mana.
“Find your next skeleton friend faster.”
4. Soul Anchor (Level 0): Create a stationary point to stabilize undead, preventing them from decaying over time. Costs 20 Mana.
“For when you need your minions to stick around.”
5. Mana Regen (Passive, Tier 1): Increase mana regeneration by 10%.
“Because running out of juice sucks.”
“Bone Armor’s the obvious choice,” John muttered, scrolling through the descriptions again. “But Mana Regen could save my butt in the long run. And Gravebond? I could make my skeletons a little less... embarrassing.” His fingers hovered over the options before Freya’s voice interrupted his internal debate.
Freya returned, carrying a steaming bowl of something that smelled faintly like cabbage and despair. “Here,” she said, handing it to him. “Eat.”
John stared at the bowl. “What... is it?”
“Does it matter?” she asked with a grin, sitting cross-legged on the ground beside him. “It’s hot, and it’ll keep you alive. That’s more than you can say for most things here.”
John sniffed the concoction warily before taking a sip. It wasn’t as bad as he expected—still awful, but at least it was edible. “Thanks,” he mumbled, glancing at her. “So, Freya, what’s your deal? You some kind of Viking warrior princess or something?”
She laughed, a sharp, carefree sound. “Hardly. Just a hunter who’s good at surviving and bad at following the rules. The gods and their ‘chosen warriors’ don’t mean much to me.” She nodded at him. “What about you? Not exactly what I pictured when I heard about a Deathcaller.”
John smirked. “Yeah, I get that a lot. I was more ‘cubicle warrior’ than actual warrior. You know, coffee, emails, and yelling at printers.”
Freya tilted her head, intrigued. “Strange gods you serve.”
“Trust me, you wouldn’t want to meet them,” John said with a chuckle.
After finishing the soup ,and enduring Freya’s sarcastic commentary about his eating habits, John limped around the village, leaning heavily on her for support. The devastation was everywhere: burned huts, scattered weapons, and exhausted villagers tending to the wounded.
Freya gestured to the village elder, a grizzled man barking orders near a pile of salvaged supplies. “That’s Bjorn. He’ll probably want to talk to you about what comes next.”
“What comes next?” John asked, raising an eyebrow.
Freya gave him a knowing look. “You saved the village, Bone Caller. That comes with expectations. You’ve got to earn your place here.”
John groaned. “Great. So this is my life now?”
Freya patted him on the shoulder, her grin mischievous. “Welcome to the clan.”
Back at the crate, John reopened the system menu, his fingers hovering over the skill list again. Freya watched him, her expression curious.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“What’s that look for?” he asked.
“You were muttering about... skills?” she said, leaning closer. “Is that part of your Deathcaller thing?”
“Uh, yeah. Something like that,” John said, scrolling through the options. “Trying to decide how to make this whole necromancy thing suck a little less.”
Freya tilted her head. “If I were you, I’d pick the one that keeps you alive the longest. You’re squishier than you look.”
John smirked, finally making his choice. “Good advice. Guess I’ll start there.”
[SKILL ACQUIRED: Bone Armor (Level 0)]
“Congratulations! You’re slightly less fragile.”
John leaned back with a satisfied sigh, feeling the faint pulse of new power in his chest. Maybe, just maybe, he could survive this insane world.
After pausing for a moment to examine the feeling,John opened the skill tree again, staring at the glowing options while Freya sat nearby, curiously watching him mutter to himself.
“Gravebond could be good,” he mused aloud, glancing at his battered skeleton minions. “If I can make at least one of these guys halfway competent, maybe I won’t have to babysit them so much.”
Skill Point 2: Gravebond (Level 0)
“Because minions deserve upgrades too!”
His eyes lingered on Mana Regen. He thought about the sheer exhaustion after the last fight, his mana bar draining far too quickly. “Yeah, more juice sounds smart. I’m definitely going to need that.”
Skill Point 3: Mana Regen (Passive, Tier 1)
“Now you’ll suck less in prolonged fights!”
Satisfied, John closed the skill tree and opened his attributes menu.
Attribute Point Allocation
John studied his stats:
[ATTRIBUTES]
* Strength: 3 (”Stick to summoning, champ.”)
* Dexterity: 4 (”You might trip over air.”)
* Intelligence: 8 (“At least you are smart”)
* Charisma: 2 (”Don’t quit your day job.”)
* Mana: 100 (Base)
“Strength is a lost cause,” he muttered. “I couldn’t lift a decent Viking axe even if I wanted to.”
Freya raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
“Nothing! Just thinking!” he said quickly, scrolling to Intelligence. “Okay, more brainpower sounds good. I’m guessing that’ll help with spells.”
Attribute Point 1: Intelligence +1 (8 → 9)
“Your brain is now slightly less smooth.”
He hesitated over Dexterity. “Should I fix my clumsiness? Or just double down on magic?”
Freya snorted. “You couldn’t fix your clumsiness with a god’s blessing.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” John said, rolling his eyes. “Fine, more magic it is.”
Attribute Point 2: Intelligence +1 (9 → 10)
“Big brain energy unlocked!”
Updated Stats and Skills
[CHARACTER SHEET]
Name: John Harper
Class: Necromancer – Path of the Deathcaller
Level: 2
Attributes:
* Strength: 3
* Dexterity: 4
* Intelligence: 10
* Charisma: 2
* Mana: 100 (Base)
Skills:
1. Bone Armor (Level 0): Summon skeletal plating to protect yourself. Costs 15 Mana.
2. Gravebond (Level 0): Strengthen a single summoned skeleton, increasing its speed and damage.
3. Mana Regen (Passive, Tier 1): Increase mana regeneration by 10%.
John closed the menu and let out a long breath. “Okay, I’ve got a slightly better chance of not dying horribly. That’s progress, right?”
Freya gave him a teasing smile. “If that’s what you want to call it, Bone Caller.”
“Okay,” he said, glancing at Freya. “What’s next?”
Freya grinned. “Next? You get to work. This place isn’t going to rebuild itself.”
As the villagers worked to clear the charred remains of their homes, John leaned heavily on a crude walking stick Freya had found for him. The skeletal ache in his limbs made every step feel like trudging through wet cement, but he forced himself to keep moving. The system prompts and Freya's teasing were momentary distractions, but the grim reality of the village weighed on him like the falling snow.
Freya gestured to a gathering near the village center, where Bjorn, the grizzled elder, stood with his arms crossed. His booming voice carried across the clearing.
“The raid left us with nothing. Our food stores burned, our livestock scattered or taken. We have wounded who need tending, and the winter grows harsher by the day. If we do not rebuild—if we do not prepare—then we will not see the spring.”
A murmur ran through the crowd. The villagers, already exhausted, looked defeated. A woman cradled a child wrapped in thin blankets, her eyes hollow. A man, his leg bound in bloody bandages, stared at the ground as if hoping it might swallow him whole.
John felt a twinge in his chest—a mix of guilt and discomfort. He wanted to look away, to pretend it wasn’t his problem. But Freya, standing beside him, gave him a sharp nudge.
“You hear that?” she said, her voice low.
“Yeah,” John muttered. “Sounds like a bad time.”
Freya scowled. “This isn’t just their problem, you know. You live here now.”
John opened his mouth to protest, but Freya cut him off.
“They’ll starve, Bone Caller. The raiders will come back, and next time, there won’t be anything left to save.” Her voice softened. “You saw what you could do out there. That wasn’t luck. You have a gift. If you’re going to stick around, you’d better use it.”
“Gift?” John snorted. “I’m a guy with skeleton Wi-Fi. That’s not exactly what I’d call inspiring.”
Freya’s eyes narrowed. “Then do it for yourself. If this village falls, so do you. You want a reason to care? Survival’s a pretty good one.”
Bjorn’s voice interrupted their conversation. “We need to hunt. The raiders took most of what we had. What they didn’t take, they burned.”
Freya crossed her arms. “The forest is crawling with wolves and worse. We barely have the manpower to protect the hunters.”
Bjorn glared at her. “And what would you suggest? Starve quietly?”
Freya opened her mouth to retort, but John stepped forward before she could speak.
“What if I helped?” he said, the words tumbling out before he could stop himself.
Bjorn turned to him, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “You? The outsider?”
Freya gave John an approving nudge, her smirk returning. “You’re the Bone Caller, remember?”
John swallowed hard. “Right. Bone Caller. I can, uh, summon undead. They don’t get tired, and they’re not exactly afraid of wolves. Maybe they could help... guard the hunters or carry supplies?”
The villagers muttered among themselves, glancing uneasily at him. Bjorn’s expression remained hard, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—hope, maybe, or desperation.
“If you can do what you say,” Bjorn said, “then prove it. Tomorrow, you’ll go with the hunters. If your magic is worth anything, it might just save us. But if it fails...”
He didn’t finish the thought. He didn’t have to.
Later that evening, as the villagers huddled around a communal fire, John sat apart, staring at the glowing system prompts in his vision. His skills were still basic, his mana limited. The thought of commanding skeletons in a forest filled with wolves and god-knows-what-else made his stomach churn.
Freya plopped down beside him, her breath steaming in the cold air. “You look like you’re going to puke.”
“I feel like it,” John admitted. “What if I screw this up?”
“Then you’ll screw it up. But at least you’ll have tried.” Freya poked at the fire with a stick. “Look, you might not care about these people yet, but they’re your clan now. That means something here.”
John frowned, glancing toward the villagers. He saw the woman with the child again, the little one coughing weakly. His gaze shifted to the wounded man, struggling to eat with trembling hands.
“Why do you care so much?” he asked Freya.
She shrugged, her eyes distant. “I’ve seen what happens to villages that fall apart. I’m not going to watch it happen again.”
Her words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. John didn’t press her.
Instead, he sighed and opened his Character Sheet again, scrolling through his newly acquired skills.
[SKILLS]
1. Bone Armor (Level 0): Summon skeletal plating to protect yourself.
2. Gravebond (Level 0): Strengthen a single summoned skeleton, increasing its speed and damage.
3. Mana Regen (Passive, Tier 1): Increases mana regeneration by 10%.
John closed the menu, his resolve hardening. “Fine. I’ll help. But if I die out there, you’re giving my skeleton a Viking funeral.”
Freya grinned. “Deal. Just don’t embarrass me out there, Bone Caller.”
The fire crackled between them as the night deepened, and for the first time, John felt a faint glimmer of determination. This wasn’t his world, and these weren’t his people, but if he was going to survive, he’d have to make them both his problem.