“Norris,” Lieutenant Stelan addressed Bones, who was seated. “Where’s Finley?”
“Here, sir,” Finley replied, stepping out of the tent.
“Good, now that you’re all here, follow me.” The lieutenant ordered, leading them to his tent where he presented a map of the local area and outlined the patrol route.
“There are three patrol routes. Two will be assigned to you prisoners interchangeably, and one will be handled by a group of soldiers. Your route…” The officer pointed to a path south of the camp and near the swamps. He detailed the dos and don’ts for their patrol.
“The estimated time to complete the route is two hours, and you’ll be doing two rounds per night shift. Stick to the route and you’ll be fine. Venture further south into the swamps, and you’ll find yourself in the maws of the lizardfolk or drained dry by leeches! That’s all!” The officer waved his hand dismissively, then added almost as an afterthought, “And… be at ease! There hasn’t been an attack on the camp for quite a while now. Don’t forget to stop by the armory and take a band each. Unless you want to be mistaken for an enemy…”
Tate, being the highest level in the party, took on the role of leader. Muck was his second-in-command, Bones remained an enigma, and Finley was seen as the weak link. The party stopped by the armory, collected their red bands with the kingdom’s crest, and donned them. The band was mandatory on the frontlines to differentiate friend from foe. Although some preferred capes, bands were more practical for soldiers.
As they exited the camp through the south gates, Tate rearranged the order of the patrol. Bones was placed at the front with Muck backing him up, Finley was positioned behind Muck, and Tate stayed in the rear. Despite Finley’s complaints, he was easily persuaded. Bones chose to remain silent. While placing the highest level member at the back was strategic, Tate and Muck’s bandit past made Bones wary. Finley, lacking choice, was essentially a pawn.
“You don’t look like Norris,” Muck remarked, walking behind Bones as they began their patrol. Bones didn’t turn around but replied, “Yeah, well, you don’t look like Much either.”
“Huh? What do you mean?” Muck asked, confused by the wordplay.
“Nothing Much.”
“He’s fucking with you,” Tate interjected from behind.
“I see… Read your sheet, Norris. It says you’re a thief and a member of The Crimson Banner gang.”
Bones realized for the first time that the man he was impersonating was a gang member.
“How convenient that you were behind bars while your whole gang was apprehended during the raid two nights ago.”
Bones stopped and slightly tilted his head. “What raid?”
“Hah! Don’t act like you don’t know what we’re talking about!” Tate retorted, while Muck continued, “Yeah, that’s right! You were probably the one who tipped off the guildies. Half the gang died when they raided the Horned Dog, and the other half ended up in the interrogation chair!”
Bones absorbed the information and sought more details.
“What else happened that night? What about The Hounds?”
“The Hounds?” Tate and Muck echoed simultaneously.
Bones stopped walking, turned to face Muck directly, and asked, “Where’s Silva?”
Muck was taken aback by the mention of Silva from someone he perceived as a mere nobody like Norris. Tate, however, reacted with swift violence. Without warning, he drew his sword and, with a practiced motion, backstabbed Finley, who was completely unaware of the threat.
Muck, momentarily stunned, turned to see Tate withdrawing his blade from Finley’s lifeless body. Finley crumpled to the ground, twitching briefly before lying still.
“This is it!” Muck thought, his heart pounding as he turned to Bones, only to be met with the dark, hollow eye sockets of his grim companion. “Wha—”
Splurt
In his disorientation, Muck staggered back, only to hear the sickening sound of a spear piercing flesh from behind, followed by a pained moan. He glanced over his shoulder just in time to see the tip of the spear protruding from Tate’s chest. With a swift motion, the spear was pulled free, sending a spray of blood from the gaping wound. Tate dropped to his knees, then collapsed face-first into the dirt, still alive but bleeding heavily. Behind him stood a figure clad in leather armor and a hood similar to Bones', holding the spear that has determined the end of Tate’s life.
Muck's shock turned to fear as he stared at the man bleeding out on the ground. He barely registered the cold steel at his neck until Bones spoke.
“You… you’re not Norris?” Muck stammered.
“That should be obvious by now. Norris was killed in the prison cell. Hearing he was connected to The Hounds, I’m starting to think his death wasn’t random. But enough about him. Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself? And don’t leave out… Much.”
Muck, realizing the gravity of the situation, decided that his best option was to cooperate. He looked nervously at Tate, who was dying, and swallowed hard.
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
“What are you? Why did you attack Tate?”
“What do I look like to you? And don’t dodge my questions. Where’s Silva? What do you know about him?” Bones pressed.
“I don’t know anything about him!” Muck protested, though he knew resisting would only hasten his end. “We never met him. We only heard about him from our leader.”
Bones wasn’t fully convinced but understood it was plausible they wouldn’t have direct knowledge of a high-profile figure like Silva. Nonetheless, he decided to use Soul Link on Muck.
As the pressure of the Soul Link took effect, Muck’s face contorted in agony. The overwhelming sensation made his heartbeat thunder in his ears. He clutched his chest, gasping, and weakly murmured, “S-stop it…”
Bones didn’t have a way to drag information out of the man—at least, not yet. Soul Link gave him the ability to sense the emotions and intent behind Muck's words, and he felt that the man wasn’t lying.
He really doesn’t know. The fear for his life was quite real, which increased the chance of establishing a successful soul link, but it was still difficult. Was it because of his level? The level disparity seemed to make that much of a difference.
“Alright, Muck,” Bones said suddenly. “Later!”
“Eh?” Muck blurted out, then saw Skully approaching with a spear. Before Muck could react...
slits
Bones drew a line across Muck’s neck, and Skully thrust the tip of the spear through his heart, finishing him off. Muck’s final moments were filled with shock and disbelief. Skully pulled out his spear, and Bones tossed Muck’s body aside and turned to the crawling Tate. The man had suffered a sneak attack and had a pierced heart, but he was still alive.
“Quite a lot of vitality, hm?” Bones said, following the blood trail. Tate spat out blood and, with great effort, turned onto his back. He couldn’t move anymore; that was the last of his strength. If he had time, he might heal enough to muster the strength to return to camp and seek help.
“Amazing,” Bones said, standing over the man. Tate glared at him, his words threatening to hunt him down and kill him for what he had done, barely audible. Bones chuckled and reminded Tate that he and Muck had planned to do the same to them…
Tate opened his mouth to retort but had nothing to add. He tried to laugh but only coughed up blood.
Cough cough “Fucking coward… what are you?” he weakly asked. Bones didn’t reply. He established a Soul Link with the man and watched as Tate’s breathing slowed. His eyes grew foggy, and he took his last breath.
Bones looked at the dagger in his hand, puzzled. Where did I get this dagger? Did I always have it, or… Never mind that. As always, good work, Skully,” Bones said, crouching atop Tate’s body. He positioned the dagger above the dead man’s ankles and slit the tendons in his legs, just above the heels.
“That should be enough. Unless they investigate the wounds thoroughly, which I doubt they will.” Bones stood up and pulled the hood back over his head. If anything, he had learned that the two couldn’t immediately tell he was undead. With a few more modifications, he might pass as a living, breathing human—
“Nah, I don’t particularly care about looking human or undead. It’s just more convenient if people didn’t recognize me as undead, though.”
“Now then, we’re about fifteen minutes away from the camp. I doubt anyone will come by, but… we are pretty close! Shall we head to the swamps, Skully? Come on…”
Bones left the scene of the crime and continued south, through a narrow stretch of forest and into the wetlands before the swamps. He decided to heed Darsumi’s advice and take things slow. He would observe the frontlines for the next few days and plan his approach. The swamps were a sort of safety net for him, as most people avoided them. Not that the swamps lacked dangers. As his former superior Stelan had said, there were leeches, Lizardfolk further south, and other swampy creatures.
He was eager to see the Lizardfolk but not so keen on delving deeper into the swamp. He glanced at Skully, then shook his head. “Maybe we’ll check out your people later, hm?” Bones continued along the edge of the forest and the beginning of the wetlands. He stopped in the wet soil and started removing his clothes.
“Hm? Ah, Skully… you perv!” he chuckled, then stored his gear. Taking a few steps forward, he crouched, scooped up a handful of mud, and began smearing it over his bones. Bones vigorously rubbed the mud into every part of his body until he was completely covered.
“Natural camouflage, Skully!” he said, turning to his golem. After a moment’s thought, he decided to spare Skully the mud rubbing. I can just summon and unsummon Skully when I need him. Besides, his brown leather armor suits the environment here.
Once finished, Bones continued through the wetlands and along the edge of the forest, searching for higher ground from which to observe the battle from a distance. While Bones was attracting flies on his hike, an hour and a half after he had left the patrol route, the patrolling soldiers discovered the three dead bodies of his former party members. As Bones had expected, the soldiers didn’t bother to investigate the wounds thoroughly and attributed their deaths to the Aphitonian scouting party.
Bones eventually found a high, solid piece of ground overlooking the swamp just before dawn. The swamps were filled with dense and diverse trees, and Bones spotted a tall birch tree growing on an elevation. He climbed to the top of the tree and, after finding a few sturdy branches in the canopy that could support his relatively light weight, he scanned the area in the opposite direction of the swamps.
Beyond the forest, which stretched for a few hundred meters, Bones saw a large clearing extending all the way to a fortress barely visible in the distance. The fortress marked the border between the two kingdoms and, from what Bones had gathered, was the current focal point of the gold rankers’ conflict. He didn’t quite understand the Aphitonians’ intentions in this war or why capturing the fortress was so crucial.
Since the prince’s involvement over a month ago, the Aphitonians had lost their advantage over the mines and had been pushed back to the border. What were they hoping to gain? The fortress and the… “what was the name of this area again? Restless Wetlands, if he remembered correctly. I should’ve stolen the map of the area.”
Bones peered into the distance but couldn’t make out much clearly. The fortress was a military stronghold, well-protected and designed to be difficult for enemies to enter. Yet, he saw flashes of light at the top of the fort and around it. The gold rankers were engaged in battle, but the distance made it impossible to see clearly. He turned toward the camp and noticed only the smoke from the bonfire rising beyond the tree line.
Fools! The smoke will give away the camp’s position! Bones initially thought, but then he realized that the Aphitonians must have thoroughly scouted the area by now and likely knew everything about the camp. As dawn broke and the clearing was bathed in the rising sun, Bones saw multiple parties emerging from the direction of the camp, moving cautiously through the open field. To his right, he also saw Aphitonians moving in the same direction. The clash between the silver rankers was imminent, and Bones was about to witness his first battle on the frontlines.
“Skully! I think we found the perfect spot to observe the war!” he called out, then paused, remembering that he had dismissed Skully before climbing the tree. Tsk, this will be boring to watch alone...