Chapter 9 – The Flameskull

He slowly came to, his body feeling like he had been run over. His limbs and body felt heavier than before. He tried to sit up and it took him three attempts before he succeeded. Looking around he saw that he was in a similar cavern as before, there were a few differences, like the gateway leading into an empty throne room. He could see a dark mist behind what looked like an empty throne made out of aquamarine stone. Bel didn’t want to make the same mistakes again so he checked through his notifications after one message.

You have unlocked a Safe Zone 2/2.

The purge has been canceled.

Relief coursed through him at that last part. But before anything else, he took care of his gains.

“Ignatius, sort it.”

“Already done Master. I modified it some as well sir.”

You have leveled up x5.

You have killed a Troglodyte x18.

You have killed Chieftan Fr’ll (Elite) - You are capless.

You have slain a Werewolf x50.

You have slain Werewolf Lord Agarr – You are capless.

You have received 68 Silver Coins.

You have received 2 Gold Coins.

You have received Leggings of the Necro-Lord for defeating the third wave.

You have received Cuirass of the Necro-Lord for defeating the fourth wave.

You have received The Necro Blade for defeating Werewolf Lord Agarr with one blow.

You have received Rations (Good) x90.

You have received the Garments of the Necro-Lord.

Deathless Gaze has leveled up.

Bone Storm has leveled up.

Summon Lesser Undead has leveled up.

Bone Shaping has leveled up.

Life Transference has leveled up.

Identify has leveled up.

Necrotic Bolt has leveled up.

You have learned a new skill – Pugilist.

You have learned a new skill – Summon Servant.

You have been given a choice. Choose between two skills.

Horde of the Undead or The Undead Elites

He reached a milestone in four attributes just from leveling up and the changes to his body were immense. His strength and mental capacities were more than he ever thought possible. The heaviness he felt disappeared and his body was light as a feather, his movements were so precise he felt he could anything. He didn’t even need to count on his fingers when he did some quick math.

Bel sighed with contentment before he went back to check over the messages. The last part stood out the most to him.

“What is the difference between Horde of the Undead and The Undead Elites, Ignatius?”

“I am unsure sir. I feel that it has something to do with quantity and quality. But for some reason, that knowledge is not part of my basic set.” Ignatius sounded thoughtful.

“I thought so as well. I’m going with Horde then; I need more bodies not better bodies.” Bel continued.

“That is good sir. I believe that you might get the chance to get the other skill later in your advancements. I also do believe that your rise to the heavens will take a somewhat slower approach when you get out of here. This dungeon is strange and oddly charitable. You might just...” He broke off like someone pulling the plug on a speaker.

Bel had a feeling this time it wasn’t by choice. Something or someone was stopping him from saying too much. He looked at the skull with a frown but he only got a nod in return.

You have learned a new skill – Horde of the Undead

Luckily their theory was correct and his summoning pool increased by a whopping 20 slots. A small seed of doubt entered Bel’s mind at this time, but he ignored it.

After that, he checked and assigned his attributes. His strength had skyrocketed from his tempering. His bones were a lot stronger and heavier now, giving him increased strength. He would have thought it would affect his constitution. It explained why he felt so much heavier at least.

He assigned six points to willpower, five points to strength, and four points to constitution. He needed to be stronger in combat and he needed to be able to last longer, he had noticed that the fights not only got harder but lasted for much longer. Willpower was always useful; he needed more minions and his resolve was greater than ever. The apathy and panic from before were already forgotten. It seemed his mind had an easier time forgetting the horrible things he’d seen or done. Bel felt as if he should have reacted more to that thought.

Getting to his feet he walked over to an empty area and held out his hands, the rain of items flooded them. He had lost his bedroll, flint and tinder, rations, and firewood in the old safe zone, and he wasn’t about to go get them in case the dungeon had plans for that. There was only one way now and that was forward.

He threw a glance at the throne room; the eerie green glow was disturbing to look at. A shudder ran down his back and he went back to work.

The pieces of armor were as beautiful as the last pieces. But he looked down at his torn t-shirt and damaged jeans that were covered in mud and blood. He stripped down to nothing standing there naked for the first time since he got to this place, he’d been ignoring his odor until now. It wasn’t pleasant.

Walking up to the pond he noticed that this one was deeper and darker but his Gaze let him see through it like it was glass.

He didn’t want to contaminate his only source of water but he couldn’t take it anymore. He filled his waterskin that he had been carrying this whole time and then he moved over to the part furthest from where he planned to drink and dove in. The water was frigid but soothing. He rubbed himself and a small area of the pool became muddled from the blood and mud. Getting out of the pool he let the none existence breeze air him out as towels weren’t part of his reward, an oversight he hoped the dungeon would rectify soon.

As he stood there, wiping water from his arms and hair he looked at his reflection in the pool. He didn’t recognize himself of course. The physical changes were the most prominent but the haunted look made him look like a stranger as well.

“I’ll be damned. I’ve got the V Ignatius; I got the V.”

“Ehm, I'm sure you do sir!”

His body was chiseled and toned in a way that he’d never managed to achieve before. He had been active and somewhat athletic but not to this degree. He wasn’t huge though it was more that his muscles were defined and perfect like they had been chiseled out of marble and put in such a place that they perfectly helped his body move.

His hair had grown as well, reaching his shoulders now. His jet-black hair and pale skin, even paler now he saw. He had always burnt easily in the sun but now he looked like he’d burst into flame if the sun ever touched his skin again. His straight nose was the same but the lack of fat had made a mark on his jawline. Bel had never been a handsome man; at best he’d be called cute or not ugly. Now he had that general attractiveness that all fit people have.

He moved over to the pile of clothes after admiring himself for a few minutes.

The Necro-Lords Garments turned out to be a full set of black and dark green clothing in a style he considered medieval but stylish at the same time. Long black breeches that went down a little longer than he thought breeches did, just to the middle of his shins.

There was no underwear but he felt going commando was the least strange thing about this place. He put the pants on and then the Boots of Necro-Lord, the two seamlessly merging. Then a dark green shirt with a black vest above it followed by a jacket in a style he felt was quite militaristic with a high collar and straight cuts went on top of that. All of the clothes were embroidered with skulls and flames of waring degrees, while unsettling it was done in a way that made him feel that he could both go to a ball or intimidate someone wanting a fight. The whole outfit was warm and smooth against his skin but the material also let his skin breathe. The best part was the description of the clothes.

Garments of the Necro-Lord – Self-Cleaning and Self-Repairing

He was no expert when it came to medieval armor but the pieces, he had received so far were unusually light and easy to put on. Something that would have taken a knight several minutes to put on took him just a few seconds.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

The leggings he had received weren't just leggings they were a combination of cuisses, faulds, and belts covering him from his naval down to where they meet the greaves. On top of that, he had the cuirass he had received which came with pauldrons as well. The pieces were the same color and shared the etching of his other gears, depicting battle and death. When all of the pieces were on, he felt a little ridiculous without a helm, armguards, or gloves. But the armor was light and supple moving perfectly across his body as he turned and twisted.

He picked up the bone shield that he had reshaped once more, smoothing out the damage from the battle before. Then he moved up to the sword, planted in the ground. He didn’t immediately pick it up instead admiring it.

The blade was metal of some sort but it had the color of bone, being a longsword, it was longer than any blade he had seen in real life and he was always surprised at how long longswords were in real life. The movies have you believe they were a little bigger than short swords but in truth, they were almost as big as claymores.

It wouldn’t be a problem for Bel though. His strength was great enough that he could wield it with one arm with ease.

The guard was straight dark steel or something similar with two skulls coming out on either end, both with green emeralds for eyes. The grip was dark green leather and the pommel was a skull with four faces looking in the cardinal directions, their eyes were black gemstones and as Bel gripped the handle the gems started to glow.

The Necro Blade – Authority of the Dead

Now that was a Sword, capital S, he thought to himself.

“What does Authority of the Dead mean Ignatius?” Bel asked as he gave the sword a few jabs and slashes. The thing was perfectly balanced, not that he knew much about that, but he could feel the sword in his hand and it changed direction and moved smoothly in his hand.

“I’m not sure sir and I don’t feel confident to guess either. I haven’t come across this sword in my studies before.” Ignatius sounded like he was in deep thought.

“What do you mean studies?” Bel turned towards the skull. He hadn’t thought much about the skull more than doubting its origins.

“I was a professor at the University of Lindrom specializing in Necromancy and Death. Not a very prestigious position, actually quite hated but the job was important. I studied and catalogued everything about the dead God in case something of its nature would show itself again. I never got to use my knowledge in life sadly as I was murdered by some zealots of the Church of Dawn for blaspheming. A fate that quite often happened to the professor of Death at the University.” Ignatius didn’t seem that heartbroken about being murdered.

“Wait, you’re an actual soul in there? Not just some magical construct like my other summons!?” Bel was appalled at what he’d done. He had just thought the thing was some sort of burning bone computer or encyclopedia.

“Yes, but do not worry sir. I volunteered for this. As your call went out in the Eternal Rest, we flocked to serve. Had to fight my way past several parties interested in your offer. This is actually the most fun and alive I’ve felt in seven hundred years!” The skull was floating up and down while cackling from laughter.

“That’s somewhat of a relief to hear. But when I raise a zombie from say a human does it trap the soul or what happens then?” Bel felt uncomfortable with this subject but he needed to know.

“No sir. Necromancy imbues corpses or mana to reanimate or create the undead. As you grow you may change and construct undead after your whims and needs but souls belong to the Eternal Rest. There are ways to trap souls and or summon them and use them as batteries or in undead creations of course, like me for example. But I have a feeling you aren’t into that kind of magic, Sir?”

“That sounds so damn evil I immediately feel like I want to hunt down any necromancer doing that.” Bel was so mad he almost ran into the throne room just to get something to hit.

“Very well sir. I shall warn you if you should ever stray from that path.”

“Good. Now I’m starving.” Quickly opening three packs he ate until his stomach was full and then he ate some more. After drinking what felt like half the pool, he laid down on the floor, hands behind his back. His armor was a little constricting but not that uncomfortable. Then he took a nap.

He woke up after a short while. He had no way of telling time now that the purge was cancelled.

“Do you have any suggestion about what troops I should bring this time Ignatius?” Bel asked after he had stretched and trained with the sword for another hour.

“Your skill level has climbed quite a bit and your summoning pool is larger than ever. I think you should go for an even distribution since we do not know what kind of enemies, we will be facing next. Your portfolio is not that large but your combination options are a lot better now. Keep in mind that zombies are generally better than skeletons due to the fact that a skeleton is only made out of bones and a zombie retains much of their capabilities from life.”

“That’s good advice, thank you, professor.” Bel smiled at the skull. He was starting to warm up to the man(?) but he still couldn’t shake that distrust in the back of his mind.

Thinking about what he should do, he checked his status to get an overview.

Name: Bel - Bringer of the Apocalypse

Class: Necro-lord (Path of the Summoning Warrior – Death Specialization)

Tempering: Tin (Bones)

Level: 15

Unassigned points: 0

Wealth: 120 Copper Coins, 86 Silver Coins 2 Gold Coins

Rations: 90 Rations (Good)

Items: Boots of the Necro-Lord Tin Rank - +1 Willpower

Greaves of the Necro-Lord Tin Rank - +1 Willpower

Leggings of the Necro-Lord Tin Rank - +1 Willpower

Cuirass of the Necro-Lord Tin Rank - +1 Willpower

The Necro Blade – Authority of the Dead

Garments of the Necro-Lord – Self-Cleaning and Self-Repairing

Attributes:

Strength: 35

Dexterity: 25

Constitution: 29

Intelligence: 25

Willpower: 50 + 4

Skills:

Deathless Gaze level 9

Bone Storm level 19

Summon Lesser Undead level 21

Bone Shaping level 12

Life transference level 12

Identify level 7

Necrotic Bolt Level 8

Imbue Undead Level 1

Summon Servant level 1

Meditation (Active) - Tin Rank

Horde of the Undead (Passive) + 20 Summon Pool

Blades – Basic (Passive)

Shields – Basic (Passive)

Pugilist – Basic (Passive)

Summoning Pool 0/30

Permanent Summons:

Ignatius Pennyfeather the Third – Servitor Flameskull

Tempering:

Bones – Death Magic +5 Strength

He omitted the traits as he knew them by now.

Cracking his neck just because it looked cool and he always wanted to do it, he went to work. He was much better at determining the cost and change in his undead now, his skill was close to ranking up actually and he was very eager to see what would happen. He wondered if the skill would evolve again. For now, he summoned.

Three tanks cost him three slots each. They were as good as he could make them for now, covered in bone armor and wielding their tower-shield arms. Then he summoned three blades at the same cost, they swirled into existence holding actual blades this time, blades of dull grey metal. That cost him 18 points and he knew what his best fighters would be so he summoned two zombie werewolves at the staggering cost of five each.

Putting him at 28 out of 30. After pondering for a while, he summoned an armored rat skeleton to serve as a scout or ambusher should the opportunity present itself.

Looking at his army, he felt a small sense of pride. They looked formidable and intimidating. Especially the werewolves with their glowing green eyes and slobbering teeth. He didn’t want to think about where the saliva was coming from though. They also didn’t breathe which was another level of fucked up.

There was only one thing he hadn’t tried out and he didn’t feel it was the time right now, but he still needed some information about it.

“What is the difference between my summoning skill and this new one, Summon Servant?” All Bel could see was a skeleton butler in a tuxedo named Bonefred or something like that.

“That is a support spell of sorts Master. It allows you to summon creatures to help with non-combat tasks, such as building, farming, cleaning, etc. A Necromancer needs to make sure his needs are taken care of after all.” Ignatius didn’t seem to think anything was wrong with that.

Bel on the other hand thought it was arrogant bordering on narcissism. But perhaps the skill would come in handy someday. He ignored the skill and that hot mess for now.

“One more question before we dip our feet in the next room. What does capless mean?” Bel was looking through his status again, checking he hadn’t missed anything.

“That is something that if people found out they would probably kill you out of jealousy if they don’t kill you for being a Death-class that is.” The skull was doing loops in the air.

“Normally an Awakened can only level to the same level as the highest-leveled Elite or Boss monster that they have slayed. That is usually what awakens the powers in people. In your case, you level freely and that is both unfair and strange. Your trait is living up to its name. The limit is there to make sure that people are worthy and prepared for their ascension.”

“That complicates things for when we get out of here. I’m guessing status sharing is frowned upon or are people open about what they can do?” Bel asked.

“I can’t be certain, I died over 700 years ago as you know. But during my time it was quite taboo to pry yes. Not only for the obvious reason that letting your enemies know your skills and levels could be bad but also because you expose your soul to someone. The act was reserved for close relatives and spouses.” The skull explained.

“Makes sense, especially the enemies part. I guess there’s a lot of conflict in a world where you grow stronger by killing?” Bel was saddened at that thought. Earth may be a shithole in many ways but at least people didn’t kill each other to physically grow stronger. They did it over money, religion, and race instead. Perhaps the two worlds weren’t as different as he first thought.

“Yes, always. Most places are quite peaceful between spurs of conflict. Especially the lower-ranked zones or the Norm part of the cities or countryside. Those are quite tranquil for the most part. Or they were a long time ago. As I think about it, perhaps I'm not the best source for how things are up there now.” The skull was rotating counter-clockwise now, it was giving Bel a headache.

“Right, but some information is better than none.” Bel had been thinking about his next move for a while now as he listened to Ignatius, went over his summons, and trained some with his sword.

“Time to go killing again, I think you should hold yourself further back when we get in there. I have a feeling the difficulty is about to ramp up.” Bel was warming up his shoulders and arms as he spoke.

“That’s well and good indeed sir. May I come with a suggestion?” The skull didn’t wait for an acknowledgment before it continued.

“You’ve been pushing yourself hard. You are probably mentally tired and your growth has been off the charts, I mean I've never heard of someone tempering within a few days of awakening. I feel perhaps that you should take a few days off, center yourself, get to know your body, and prepare yourself. You have food enough and the water cleanses itself and refills each morning.” The skull sounded quite sincere and Bel caught himself standing on the tip of his toes ready to charge forward.

Why was he doing this? Why did he feel this urge to go forward and prove himself? A weight left his shoulders then, a weight he didn’t even know he was carrying. He let out a breath and the sensation almost made him cry. His willpower was great but it didn’t take away the anxiety and the fear in his heart.

“You’re right, once again.”

Bel drove his blade into the dirt floor and dropped his shield next to it. He doubted it would affect the edge of the sword. Then he went over to the pond and sat down.

He spent the next hour meditating and relaxing, after that he used the rest of the “day” to train with his sword. As before, he didn’t know what he was doing but he tried his best. He had been given some basic knowledge and he tried to make the best of it. The day passed quicker than Bel would have thought and as he started to get tired, he made a sleeping area, he had nothing to lay on but the ground was somewhat soft and pliable.

As he lay down to sleep he looked up at the ceiling, wondering what his friends on Earth were doing right now. How did they react when he entered through a door and never made it inside? He wondered if anyone had called his mother yet. She was probably worried sick.

Feeling tears coming to his eyes he looked at the hovering skull that was currently looking at the wall, muttering to himself.

“Tell me a story Ignatius.” Bel said.

“A story Master?”

“Yes, a story with a happy ending please.” The skull looked at him for several moments before answering.

“Of course, sir.” His voice had changed. Bel couldn’t tell how exactly. He sounded almost... sad.

“There once was a Swan, a normal white swan who lived amongst his brothers and sister. There was nothing remarkable about this swan. Except for one of its feathers, a feather made entirely out of gold...” Ignatius told the story to its completion, he was unsure when the young master had fallen asleep, but he still finished the story as he’d been told. Then he went back to planning the next part of his plan.