Bones pondered the idea of visiting the capital. "Why not? I don't have any other future plans," he mused. However, thoughts of the challenges ahead and the bronze ranker who had taken an interest in him gave him pause. "Would a week be enough to reach bronze rank? It's a long shot, but if I push myself as hard as I can, it might be doable!"
Gulping the drink down and with the book under his arm, Bones left the library. Word around was that the guild leader could rarely be seen in the main hall of the guild. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to keep the old man's advice close to heart, quickly grab a few contracts, and get moving.
As Bones left the Guild around noon, he wandered the streets with nowhere in particular to go, taking in the sights of the shopping district. An alchemy shop caught his eye as he passed by, and a few minutes later, ”I can’t believe I ended up spending the last of my gold on mana potions!" he muttered to himself, a tinge of regret in his tone.
By the time Bones finished his errands in the shopping district, daylight still lingered. Armed with subjugation contracts and a determination to level up, he set his course toward the gates. His plan for the next few days involved grinding levels and tending to a matter concerning his former tower.
As he followed the road leading away from town, his mind buzzed with system-related thoughts. His class, Bonemancer, was deemed uncommon, and the skills he acquired every five levels varied from those of other Bonemancers.
Although Bone Manipulation was supposed to be his level one skill and Bone Spears at level five, he learned manipulation before acquiring his class—a key factor in being offered the class in the first place. His future choices, skills, and actions would significantly influence the classes the system would present to him at level twenty-five.
He hadn’t even begun contemplating his second class; he had only obtained his main class a week ago. Professions, however, had crossed his mind. Deep in contemplation over a chapter on professions within the pages of "Adventuring for Dummies," one vocation stood out to Bones: Runesmithing. With the advent of the system, runes had ascended to prominence, and were revered as the language of the gods. They weren't merely letters or words but representations of intent, with endless possibilities lurking behind each stroke.
The mana posts scattered throughout town flashed through Bones' mind. Each post bore an engraved rune with the intent to illuminate the crystal atop it. The mana flowing through the silver wires connected to each post activated the crystal, casting light across the streets. Although there was more complexity to it, that was the basic premise of how runes functioned.
The efficacy of a rune relied on the skill of the runesmith and the quantity of mana used in its engraving. To engrave runes, one needed to first master Mana Engraving. Bones had inquired about professions in town, but beyond basic smithing classes, there seemed to be little else available.
Suddenly, a sneeze interrupted Bones' thoughts, snapping him back to reality. He glanced around and realized he had strayed far from town. With a shrug, he veered off the road and ventured into the forest.
An hour later, the distant howl of a wolf echoed through the trees. Bones had unwittingly encroached upon their territory, triggering a warning signal among the pack. Despite the potential threat, Bones remained unfazed. He had encountered wolves before, though the last encounter had been rather intense.
"Hmm, not dealing with wolves again," Bones muttered to himself as he swiftly ascended a nearby tree. Hopping from branch to branch, he navigated the forest canopy with ease, a tactic he wished he had employed during his previous encounter with the wolves.
As time passed, Bones found himself in a state of disbelief and frustration. "How? How are they still following me?" he exclaimed, his voice a mixture of bewilderment and annoyance. He had clearly underestimated the tenacity of the wolves. Had they climbed the trees or leaped from branch to branch? The answer eluded him, but the reality remained—they were relentlessly pursuing him, both on the forest floor and among the canopy. What began as a mere inconvenience had escalated into an absurd situation. All Bones had wanted was to avoid wasting time with creatures lower level than himself, but now, he found himself ensnared in a relentless pursuit beyond his expectations.
Spotting a clearing amidst the foliage, Bones executed a daring somersault from the tree canopy. In mid-air, he unleashed two bone spears, each finding its mark with lethal precision as they impaled the wolves in pursuit. Landing gracefully, Bones swiftly assumed a defensive stance, assessing the remaining pack with a critical eye. Identifying them as Grey Wolves, he noted their levels, with the presumed leader standing at nine.
As the tension mounted between them, a spark of curiosity ignited within Bones. Could he, perhaps, master the skill he was slated to acquire at level fifteen, Bone Spikes, through his own efforts? With a deep draw from his mana reserves, he attempted to manifest the bone spikes through sheer force of will. Yet, to his dismay, nothing materialized. There was a void—a lack of connection and visualization to the power he sought to wield.
A furrow formed on Bones' brow as he grappled with this realization, a twinge of embarrassment gnawing at him for not attempting this sooner. Meanwhile, the encroaching wolves closed in, circling him with predatory intent.
Just as Bones readied himself to unleash a Bona Nova, an arrow whizzed past his ear, finding its mark in a wolf behind him. Startled, Bones turned to find a hunter perched in the branches above, bow at the ready. Soon, the rest of the hunter's party emerged, casting a wary gaze upon the fallen wolves before directing their attention to Bones.
"Fellow adventurer! Do you mind if we take care of the wolves? We have a quest to subjugate the wolves in the area!" called out a young man, dressed as a mage. Bones glanced at the party, shrugged, and stepped back, giving them permission to proceed. He observed as they dispatched the remaining wolves with precision and efficiency. Just as he turned to leave, a sharp sound caught his attention. Reacting swiftly, he dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding an arrow aimed at his head.
"Tsk," the young mage exclaimed in disdain. The party's demeanor shifted, their hostility now directed towards Bones, while the hunter seemed to have vanished without a trace. Though Bones couldn't sense his presence, he knew the hunter wasn't far.
"Seeing you're not wearing an adventurer badge, I take it you’re not an adventurer?" the mage stated matter-of-factly, a mischievous grin on his face.
"I'm a contractor to the guild and that was an attempt on my life!" Bones replied, his voice tinged with animosity.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
"Oh? Then excuse my friend before! His hand must've slipped, otherwise, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
As the young mage spoke, another arrow flew at Bones from his blind spot. Despite his attempt to evade, the empowered arrow struck him in the shoulder, sending him spinning and crashing into the nearest tree. He slumped into a sitting position, silently observing his assailants, not uttering a word.
"Gyahah ha, look at him flying! Good shot!" the mage laughed gleefully, while the others joined in. Bones couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. These adventurers were merely tools for him to hone his skills, a means to level up.
"The fucker made a hole through my new shirt…" he muttered to himself, his frustration evident.
Bones slowly rose to his feet, his gaze fixed on the party standing some thirty meters away. With his senses heightened and anticipation coursing through his veins, he assumed a low stance, ready to confront the unseen hunter. Then, like a bolt of lightning, he sprang into action, dashing toward them. Surprise flickered across the mage's face for a moment before transforming into a malicious sneer.
"Take him out!" the mage barked, issuing a command to his companions.
The three men surged forward to intercept Bones. Two rogues took the lead, while the third, a burly warrior wielding a giant axe, followed close behind. The mage, arms crossed in amusement, observed the unfolding skirmish. Despite the absence of the hunter, Bones remained vigilant, expecting an ambush. He hurled two bone spears at the rogues, who deftly deflected the projectiles, though the impact slowed their advance. Bones followed up with a Bone Nova and two more spears at close range, targeting the rogues once more.
The third attempt proved successful. While Bone Nova missed its intended targets, it struck the warrior behind them. The follow-up spears found their marks—one rogue with a bone spear lodged in his shoulder, the other clutching his gut where a spear had pierced him.
“Shit! The fucker impaled Me!! Leon! Fucking Do something!” one of the injured rogues screamed in agony. Leon, the mage, began forming a spell with a grimace, while the hunter stealthily maneuvered through the bushes, seeking an optimal firing position. The warrior swung his axe wildly, aiming to cleave Bones in half, but Bones swiftly ducked under the swing and stepped back, evading the attack. Observing an ice version of his Bone Spear materializing next to Leon, Bones circled around the warrior and two rogues, obstructing the mage's line of sight and preventing him from completing his spell. With two Ice spears summoned and ready to cast, impatience began to show on Leon's face. This wasn’t how he had envisioned the assault unfolding. This wasn’t their first venture into such illicit activities, and with their advantage in numbers, they had expected a smoother operation.
After observing the situation unfold, the hunter was compelled to take action. Ceasing his stealthy movements, he aimed his bow. However, the moment he did, a spear hurtled in his direction. “Shit!” he cursed, quickly ducking behind a tree to evade the projectile. “I don't have a clear line of sight!” he shouted back to his comrades.
Meanwhile, immediately after launching his spear toward the hunter, Bones maneuvered between the two rogues, their combat hindered by their wounds but still formidable. The warrior swung his giant axe ineffectively, lacking strategy in his attacks. Although the previous wound from Bone Nova appeared superficial, it failed to hamper his movements.
The mounting pressure of the situation overwhelmed Leon, prompting him to act impulsively. In his impatience, he unleashed the Ice Spears toward Bones. One spear missed entirely, while the other impaled a rogue before striking Bones, embedding deep into his torso. As the cold slowly spread through his body, Bones felt his movements sluggish. He was speechless, caught off guard by the brazen attack. Anger surged within him, reminiscent of a similar feeling he experienced in the past.
Determined to overcome the adversity, Bones tapped into the core of his being, sensing the empowering surge of mana coursing through him. With a reinforced body and a sudden burst of speed, he sidestepped the falling rogue and summoned a spear in his hand, thrusting it through the other rogue's head. Following up with another Bone Nova, he forced the warrior to recoil, clearing a path toward the mage.
Closing in on Leon before he could finish casting his spell, Bones opted for a different approach. Instead of using his usual Bone Spear, he discharged a massive surge of mana in the form of a blast, enveloping himself and the surrounding area.
Ding
Bones brushed off the notification, fully engrossed in the aftermath of the confrontation. Leon had been obliterated by the mana discharge, leaving only scattered remnants behind. Sensing the hunter retreating beyond his range and hearing the startled cry of the warrior, Bones issued a dismissive command without even turning around, allowing the man to go back. However, as the warrior turned to depart, a spear found its mark in his back.
“Back to hell!” Bones uttered, though he couldn't help but cringe at the cliche nature of the phrase.
Drained of mana and feeling the strain of the immense discharge, Bones reflected on the toll it had taken on him. He had never exerted such a magnitude of mana in a single burst before. Nevertheless, the outcome justified the cost; he had gained a new skill, effectively concluding the confrontation.
The demise of the four adversaries resulted in a level advancement in both his race and class, accompanied by a subtle boost in his stats. Each achievement fueled his growing addiction to the sensation of progress and enhancement.
Opening the notification, Bones confirmed the acquisition of his new skill. Giving it a brief once-over, he smirked in satisfaction before dismissing the screen.
Mana Blast [basic] - an ability to discharge the accumulated mana, dealing arcane damage to enemies in a small radius around the user. Damage and radius increases with mana spent and level in skill.
Contemplating the fate of the fallen, Bones opted to leave most of their belongings untouched. He collected their weapons, flasks, and any coin he could find, but left their gear and badges, wary of their tracking capabilities. After the swift looting, he departed the scene, unwilling to risk encountering any witnesses.
The audacity of the adventurers to attack him solely based on his non-adventurer status left him bewildered. Reflecting on their actions, Bones realized that not all adventurers adhered to a code of righteousness. Like Norris, they too were enticed by the allure of criminal activities.
“And at such a young age - I suspect that brat, Leon, wasn't even twenty years old,” he muttered to himself.
With crime bosses lurking in close proximity to the guild, it was unsurprising that some adventurers engaged in illicit endeavors. This realization solidified Bones' resolve. He would hunt down these criminal overlords before departing for the capital.
With a newfound purpose and a plan taking shape in his mind, Bones continued toward the marked area on the map where the goblins were said to roam.
Back in the dimly lit alleys, in the confines of an office on the upper floor of a building, the hunter stood before the desk, visibly shaken with fear and sweat trickling down his brow. Seated behind the desk was a formidable figure, puffing on a cigar with an air of authority.
“So, you ran off after your team got themselves killed? If the guild scouts stumble upon their bodies - and mark my words, they will - they'll come sniffing around for answers!” the boss growled, his voice laced with disdain.
“Boss! I-I'm sorry! I won't go back to the guild, I swear!” the hunter stammered, his voice trembling with fear.
“You're damn right you won't! Now, spill it. What do you know about this killer?” the boss demanded, his eyes piercing into the trembling hunter.
The hunter nodded vigorously, eager to please, and launched into his account of the events, embellishing the story with exaggerations and painting Bones as a formidable and dangerous adversary. Satisfied with the tale, the boss instructed the hunter to report to one of his trusted lieutenants to track down this elusive killer. Whoever this guy was, he had crossed paths with the wrong crew. No one dared to cross Vol and lived to boast about it.