James stared at the chest in front of them, sweat still dripping from his brow after the brutal battle. The goblin chieftain's corpse lay motionless nearby, its strange glowing symbols now dull and lifeless. He took a deep breath, steadying himself before stepping forward.
“Well, let’s see what this was all for,” he muttered, pushing the heavy wooden lid open.
Inside, the chest held several items, each glowing with a faint shimmer—the unmistakable sign of personal loot distribution. James had seen this kind of thing before in MMOs. Instead of dividing loot randomly, each party member got their own share.
“Looks like we each get something,” Lillian said, reaching in first. She pulled out a sleek, black longbow with glowing silver runes etched into the limbs. The moment she touched it, the runes flared to life.
“Ooooh,” she breathed, running her fingers over the carvings. “Definitely an upgrade. Looks like it might have some kind of piercing effect too.”
Riona reached in next and pulled out a pair of twin daggers. Unlike her current set, these seemed almost liquid in form, shifting slightly as she held them.
“Adaptive metal,” she said with a grin. “Means they’ll adjust based on my fighting style. Damn, I love when the system actually rewards effort.”
Garrick grabbed a massive greataxe, its edges crackling faintly with energy. He tested its weight before nodding in approval.
“Good balance,” he said. “Better reach than my last one.”
Lyra’s loot was a simple-looking amulet, but when she put it on, her body flickered for a second before stabilizing.
“Huh,” she said, frowning. “I think this is some kind of evasive enchantment. Might make dodging easier.”
Then it was James’s turn. He hesitated before reaching inside. The moment his fingers brushed against his loot, the room dimmed.
The item wasn’t a weapon or a piece of armor. Instead, it was an amorphous, shifting mass of shadows, coiling and twisting like living ink. The second he touched it, tendrils of darkness lashed out, wrapping around his arm and sinking into his skin.
Pain shot through him—not the sharp sting of a wound, but a deep, searing burn that felt like it was rewriting something inside him.
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“James?” Lyra’s voice was distant, like she was speaking from the other end of a long tunnel.
His vision blurred, and then—
Darkness.
A swirling void stretched before him. Faint whispers echoed around him, unintelligible but unmistakably real. His skin burned as the shadows slithered across his arms, forming intricate patterns—symbols he didn’t recognize but instinctively understood.
He gasped as knowledge poured into his mind. Necromancy. A spellbook, not in the traditional sense, but carved directly onto his body. He could feel it—an entire skillset written into his very being, waiting to be unlocked.
Then, as quickly as it came, the vision faded.
James stumbled back, sucking in a breath. The pain was gone, but the marks remained—jagged, black tattoos running from his fingertips to his shoulders, shifting slightly if he looked too long.
“What the hell was that?” Lyra asked, eyes wide.
James flexed his fingers, feeling a strange, lingering energy beneath his skin. “I… I don’t know. But I think I just got a spellbook tattooed onto my body.”
Lillian whistled. “Damn. That’s new.”
“Necromantic in nature,” Riona observed, leaning in. “You feel any different?”
James hesitated. “I—”
A sudden chill ran down his spine. Shadows near his feet stirred unnaturally. Then, without meaning to, he pulled.
The darkness twisted, forming a vague humanoid shape beside him—a featureless, wraith-like figure made of shifting black mist. It lingered for a moment before dispersing like smoke.
Everyone took a step back.
“Okay, that was creepy,” Garrick grunted.
James exhaled slowly. “Yeah. I think I need to figure out what this does… preferably somewhere that isn’t a goblin-infested cave.”
Lyra nodded. “Agreed. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
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THE JOURNEY BACK
The walk back to town was quieter than expected. The usual post-battle banter was there, but there was an undercurrent of tension, mostly directed at James’s new ability.
Lyra nudged him as they walked. “So… you gonna explain what the hell that was?”
James ran a hand over the tattoos. They were cold to the touch, like ink that never fully settled. “I think it’s a necromancy-based spell system. Instead of a book or a menu, the spells are marked on my skin.”
“Sounds cursed,” Lillian said.
“Probably,” James admitted.
Garrick grunted. “As long as you don’t raise me from the dead, I don’t care what magic you use.”
James chuckled. “No promises.”
Riona shot him a side glance. “You feel any different?”
James thought about it. He did feel… something. A strange awareness, like a second set of instincts lurking just below the surface. He hadn’t cast any real necromantic spells yet, but he knew that if he tried, the knowledge was there.
“Not really,” he said. “But I feel like I could do something if I focused.”
Lyra sighed. “Great. That’s not ominous at all.”
They reached the outskirts of town just as the sun started to rise. The familiar sight of the marketplace and the Adventurer’s Guild brought a sense of normalcy—until James caught his reflection in a shop window.
For a second, just a fraction of a second, his eyes weren’t his own.
They were black. Entirely black.
Then he blinked, and they were normal again.
He swallowed hard.
Yeah. He definitely needed to figure out what the hell was happening to him.
And fast.