“Wonderful!” Greg exclaimed, his voice filled with enthusiasm.
“Hold on a second. I'm inclined to accept your offer, but I've received similar invitations in the past, and they didn't pan out well for me or anyone else involved,” Bones expressed his uncertainty. Memories of Silva's invitation to the capital and the subsequent events loomed in his mind. It was history he had no desire to relive.
“I understand your uneasiness, and you have every right to doubt me. However, perhaps I could convince you in some other way.”
“Go on…” Bones remained skeptical yet intrigued.
Greg rose from his chair, strolled around the table, and stopped next to Bones. For a fleeting moment, Bones wondered if Greg planned to attack him.
“Let me show you glimpses of what awaits you in the Nether Realm. Before I do this, I want you to know I am glad to have met you, even if you decide not to come. Farewell, Mr. Jones.”
“Wait, wh-”
Bones' body suddenly convulsed. Images of unfamiliar roads, fields, and places flashed before his eyes. A fissure in the ground, exuding otherworldly air, and then a monochromatic world with fields of undead and towering city walls bathed in ethereal light.
“Necropolis!” Bones exclaimed!
“Hm? I have to go, Mr. Jones. Good luck in the dungeon tomorrow,” Greg, sitting across from Bones, said as he stood up to leave. Despite the vivid images of the Nether Realm lingering in his mind, Bones' confusion heightened as he watched Greg wish him luck in the dungeon he’s already cleared.
“W-wait…Greg?” Bones stammered. Greg stopped and turned, “Yes, Mr. Jones?”
Bones hesitated, then chose not to speak, figuring that whoever had control over Greg and he talked to was now gone. “Nothing, have a nice day, Greg.”
Greg waved his hand goodbye, and Bones watched him leave. He summoned a notebook into his hands and began jotting down everything he had seen. What the other version of Greg showed him wasn't just random images but a path to the portal connecting the Nether Realm and this side.
“That was one helluva goodbye! How could I refuse to go after seeing all that…” Bones felt tricked, baited, like a child offered candy with the promise of more to come. With a few more hours to spare before the shops started closing, Bones decided to embark on another shopping spree before his departure from Draycott. The impression left by Cal’s spellbook lingered in his mind, prompting Bones to scour every shop in town in the hope of finding spell scrolls and spellbooks. To his bewilderment, he couldn't find any. Frustrated, he shifted his attention to the magical staffs on display, contemplating the idea of trying one out.
Thankfully, magician weapons were abundant, available in two primary forms: wands, designed to be held in one hand, and staves. The main distinction between the two, aside from their size, lay in the amount of magical energy, mana, infused within. Staves, being larger, served as powerful magical tools, making it easier for magicians to cast grand spells. On the other hand, the smaller wands were versatile tools, ideal for precise and delicate spellcasting, commonly favored by support and healer classes.
Despite frequently stating that he would assume a supportive role while his golems fought on the front lines, Bones couldn't fathom himself wielding a wand. In every shop he visited, he made it clear that he wanted the most potent staff they had available!
He eagerly perused the magician staffs on display, finally settling on one that caught his eye. The shaft, crafted from high-quality wood, boasted a smooth surface that felt both resilient and supple in his grasp - a perfect conduit for mana. The intricate carvings along its length depicted arcane symbols, hinting at the staff's potential for powerful spellcasting.
As his fingers traced the wood's delicate patterns, Bones marveled at the exquisite craftsmanship. But it was the staff's tip that truly captivated him. The end tapered into a knuckle, a finely wrought structure that cradled an exquisitely cut mana crystal. The crystal sat majestically at the pinnacle, radiating a soft, ethereal glow that hinted at the potent magical energy it contained.
With each passing moment, Bones could sense the staff resonating with arcane power, as if eager to channel the latent magic within. The union of the high-quality wood and the enchanting mana crystal promised an instrument capable of weaving formidable spells with unparalleled strength. Bones couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement at the prospect of wielding such a magnificent magician staff.
“I’ll take it!”
Bones departed from the town of Draycott before nightfall, his destination lying a day's walk away. Guided by the visions he had witnessed, he ventured off the familiar path, traversing hills and descending slopes with no discernible trail in sight. A hundred and forty kilometers from Draycott, nestled in a valley concealed from the outside world, Bones arrived at the remnants of what had once been a thriving village.
As he stepped into this secluded valley, the wind wove its way through the abandoned houses, a haunting melody that caused windows to creak and slam in response. Nature, undisturbed by human presence, had reclaimed the dozen houses that constituted the village, transforming them into silent witnesses to the passage of time.
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Bones forcefully kicked open the doors, causing a cloud of dust to rise as he entered one of the houses. Swatting away intricate cobwebs, he found the interior to be unremarkable, but a peculiar observation caught his attention - everything was in its place, untouched and undisturbed.
“Did the villagers leave in such haste that they couldn't take anything with them?” Bones pondered. Isolated from any form of civilization, the village seemed vulnerable to threats, with only its inhabitants to rely on for defense. A sudden realization struck him. The connection between this abandoned village and Greg... he was led here, retracing Greg’s footsteps, which meant, “This is the place Greg lost his mind and went on a killing spree. Did he murder everyone in the village?”
Breaking into other houses yielded the same eerie scene. Bones stood in the middle of the village, contemplating his next move. What was he supposed to do? Find the portal? Trying to recall his visions, he summoned a notebook and skimmed through its pages. “portal surrounded by darkness, '' he read a passage. “Night? No…underground? But where?”
His gaze fell upon a well. “It can’t be…” Approaching it, he peered down the hole but saw nothing. “As expected.” Pushing his senses to the maximum, he discerned a layout of narrow tunnels leading somewhere beyond his range. With the well dried out, Bones dropped Skully's core to test the best way to descend. Skully appeared mid-flight, maneuvering skillfully from wall to wall, slowing his descent, and landing at the bottom.
“I should’ve expected that,” Bones mused, realizing he should’ve chosen Murdok, the less skillful one for the task. “Nevermind then.” Climbing into the well, he allowed himself to free fall, landing with a thud and a sore tailbone. After rubbing the tender spot, he summoned Murdok as well and had his two golems lead the way, navigating the narrow passages one at a time.
At the end of the tunnel, a peculiar sight awaited Bones. It wasn't the warm, inviting light one might expect, but a radiant, ethereal green that bore through the wide chasm, casting an otherworldly glow upon the underground walls.
Approaching cautiously, Bones peered into the enigmatic illumination. Deep down, he beheld a mesmerizing mesh of colors, swirling, mixing, and blending into each other—the unmistakable traits of a portal. The vibrant spectacle beckoned him. Mesmerized by the sight before him and the promises awaiting him, Bones gritted his teeth and leapt off, surrendering to the unknown allure of the swirling vortex.
It wasn’t Bones’ first time going through the portal; he had passed through one just a day before. However, this time, he wasn’t prepared for the sensation of the space distortion tearing every piece of him apart, chewing it out, and then spitting it back out in one piece. Bones propelled through the portal on the other side, face-first, hitting the ground and sliding to a stop after a few meters. Lying motionless for a couple of seconds, he eventually forced himself onto his back, gazing at the sky.
“There are no stars in the sky,” he said, his tone flat. Soon after, two more figures burst through the portal, sliding to a stop next to him.
“I’m sorry, fellas, I forgot to dismiss you two,” Bones apologized, then pushed himself off the ground into a standing position. The portal hummed in the air, situated in the middle of a desolate field. Bones looked around, observing his new environment. At first glance, a barren expanse unfolded before him - a desolate land devoid of trees, rocks, and even grass. The ground stretched flat until, in the distance, jagged mountains formed a dark silhouette against the alien sky. The visions from Greg guided him away from the portal, prompting Bones to turn around and begin his journey.
As he traversed the desolate landscape, something other than the monotonous dark gray ground caught his attention. Black grass, rising up to his knees, and skeletal trees with equally dark bark began to populate the eerily quiet land. Even Bones, the undead revenant, found the place overwhelmingly somber. The sparsely vegetated terrain gradually transformed into a field of grass, carrying a faint scent of rot and decay, and revealing figures in the distance idling about. As Bones approached one of the figures, he discerned a shambling and rotting corpse with pieces of flesh missing.
"Zombies," Bones recognized the undead type. The once-silent land now echoed with the haunting presence of these animated corpses, adding a layer of dread to the desolate atmosphere.
The zombie didn’t seem to react to Bones' presence as he approached. Glancing around, Bones counted over twenty zombies, each spaced ten meters apart, with even more in the distance. Getting within arm’s reach for a closer inspection, he observed the creature's white eyes, decayed face and teeth, and tattered clothing. The zombie stood with an unnerving stillness. Deciding to leave, Bones took a few steps, and the moment he did, the zombie snapped its head in his direction. A swiping sound followed by a thud indicated the zombie's head landing beside him. Skully, with his spear at the ready, had swiftly dealt with the threat.
Bones turned to see other zombies in the vicinity suddenly turning toward him and advancing. Puzzled by the sudden reaction, he couldn’t dwell on it as the approaching zombies shifted from a sluggish pace to a slight jog and then to a full-blown sprint when they came within ten meters of him.
Skully and Murdok stepped forward to engage the zombies head-on, while Bones' lances ran through the ones at the back. As he crossed the field, he left behind a trail of headless, limbless corpses.
Bones relished the feeling of superiority over the walking dead. Their substantial numbers provided the perfect opportunity for him to practice using a staff. Initially struggling to draw mana from the crystal, channel it through the staff, and cast spells, his proficiency improved over time. After hours of practice, Bones drew a couple of conclusions.
Firstly, he firsthand experienced the advantages of using a staff. Casting spells felt effortless, and even continuously casting his most mana-consuming spells didn't deplete his mana pool significantly. While he acknowledged that his absurd mana regeneration played a crucial role, the difference in using a staff was evident. His spells were cast with more impact, especially his new, concept-infused Bone Lance.
Secondly, Bones noted the disadvantages of using the staff, with the most notable being a lower cast speed. He had never delved into the intricate steps of spellcasting before, as it felt like second nature to him. However, now he observed that it took longer to cast spells with the staff. Specifically, it took twice as long to cast the same spell with the staff than without it.
The usual process involved envisioning the spell he wanted to cast, guiding the flow of mana through his body, down his hands, and manifesting the spell beside him. The spell would be channeled until he sent it flying towards his target. With the staff, he had to guide his own mana through his body, down his arm, then through the staff to the mana crystal, drawing the rest of the mana required to cast the spell before the lance manifested.
Despite the slower cast speed, Bones found that the advantages far outweighed the disadvantages. However, a lingering question emerged in his mind: wouldn't magicians become too dependent on using the staff, rendering them powerless without it, akin to a swordsman without a sword?