Eternal Rest

On the journey back to the smithy, Bones engaged in lively conversation with the dwarves about their recent expedition into the dungeon. Darsumi appeared particularly enthralled by the tales of adventure, while Hem maintained his characteristic stoicism.

Upon their return to the smithy, Bones announced his intention to depart for the capital temporarily, promising to return within a month's time with an upgraded golem, primed for dungeon exploration. However, he lingered for one more day, eager to witness the grand opening of the shop he had worked to establish. The event was marked by festivities and revelry, extending into the late hours of the night with copious amounts of drinking and merriment.

The following morning, amidst the haze of the previous night's celebrations, Bones bid farewell to the drowsy dwarves and set out from Stonefalls, and toward the capital. As he stood before the towering structure of the Hagos dungeon, its immense size never failing to captivate him, he marveled at its sheer magnitude. The towering spire seemed to stretch endlessly into the sky, its summit obscured by the thick blanket of clouds above—a testament to the unfathomable depths and mysteries that lay within.

Bones couldn't fathom the amount of time and effort that went into constructing the tower surrounding the dungeon. Shaking his head in awe, he made his way toward the familiar tavern. As he pushed open the doors, he was greeted by the familiar ambiance—a dimly lit interior, smoke lingering in the air, and the soulful strains of blues music. Though the usual crowd seemed thinner than usual.

"Bones? Bones! Welcome back!" A voice called out, and Bones turned to see Clover, the barrier woman, standing at the foot of the stairs leading to the first-floor accommodations. Her smile was warm, but there was a hint of nervousness in her demeanor. "We weren't sure if you'd be returning!"

"It took me a bit longer to tie up loose ends. Where are the others?" Bones inquired.

"They're out, except for Solin. He's in the backyard, training as usual. But there's someone here who wants to meet you," Clover replied, her tone cautious. "If you're not up for it, it's fine. But Silva insisted that if you came back, I should let you know."

Bones furrowed his brow in curiosity. "Who wants to meet me?"

Clover leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "The necromancer."

"Why would... nevermind. Where are we headed?" Bones asked, his interest piqued despite his reservations.

"Great, follow me!" Clover beckoned, leading Bones to the back of the tavern and through a concealed entrance. Bones hesitated before reluctantly stepping onto the platform and descended down the manavator into the depths of the Underground City. After a brief walk, they halted before a dilapidated building, its facade marred by grime and overgrown moss.

"In here," Clover instructed, gesturing towards the entrance. Bones hesitated, casting a skeptical glance at the rundown establishment before stepping inside. As he took a few tentative steps forward, he couldn't help but voice his surprise. "Another bar? Really?"

Clover offered no response, merely shrugging and offering a cryptic smile. She waited outside as Bones ventured to the back of the bar and descended down the hallway. Passing by a room, he caught sight of a man in a white coat seated at a desk, engrossed in his work. He entered the room and greeted the man.

Returning the greeting, the man in the white coat inquired if Bones needed assistance. Despite his initial puzzlement, Bones introduced himself. "I'm Bones. I was told to come here because someone wished to meet me?"

"Ah, excellent! You've arrived," the man exclaimed, his demeanor eager. "Follow me, quickly!" Without further ado, the man—Bert—motioned for Bones to accompany him. Leading the way, Bert guided Bones down a flight of stairs and into the basement, where a frail figure lay on a bed, pallid and feeble.

With a nod, Bert indicated that Bones had reached his destination. Bones tentatively asked if this was the individual he had been summoned to meet, and Bert's affirmative nod confirmed it. "I'll wait outside to give you some privacy," he offered before stepping out of the room. Bones expressed his gratitude to Bert before approaching the bedridden figure, who slowly and deliriously opened his eyes.

"S'that you, Bones?" the figure murmured weakly.

"Yes, it is I," Bones replied.

"Finally! I've…been waiting for you. Why haven't you come sooner?" the necromancer questioned, his tone betraying a sense of familiarity that left Bones perplexed. Despite this, the necromancer spoke as if they were old acquaintances or even close friends. He continued to ramble, engaging in idle chatter until Bones could bear it no longer. "Enough! What am I doing here?"

"That…hurts, man. I thought we had something? I raised you, man," the necromancer rasped, punctuating his words with a fit of coughing. "You wouldn't be here if it weren't for me!"

Bones was baffled; the man was truly delirious! "Raise me? Man... I don't know you!" Everything about this situation was strange. What did he want with me? Hm?

As the man continued to babble nonsense, Bones felt the mana within him stir. It felt... strange. Impure, disgusting even. He hadn't sensed it earlier, but now it felt like the mana was building up to something.

Ending the conversation, Bones cast Bone Spikes under the bed, impaling the dying necromancer and seemingly ending his life. Or so he thought. To his astonishment, the man's eyes widened, and he coughed, asking why Bones had done that. “What in the…”, he murmured. He was certain at least three spikes had pierced the man's back!

“You annoy me!” Bones shouted as another set of spikes pierced the man, yet he remained alive. The necromancer's cackle grew louder as mana continued to surge. Blisters spread across his body, and his skin cracked visibly. Outside, Bert couldn’t ignore the escalating situation. He peeked inside and watched in disbelief as the necromancer's condition worsened.

As the manic laughter subsided and blood tears streaked down the man's face, Bones realized the imminent danger. Drawing from his own mana pool, Bones hastily cast Mana Blast just as the necromancer triggered Corpse Explosion upon himself. Both spells collided, hurling Bones out of the room and crashing into the basement wall.

The entire establishment trembled from the explosion, shrouding the basement in dust. Bert, the medic, was thrown off balance, even within the safety of the outer walls. Regaining his composure, he muttered, "What in the world…" before coughing amidst the debris.

He turned to see Bones slowly rising, a piece of bone lodged in his ribcage. With a grimace, Bones extracted the bone and discarded it before joining Bert. Together, they entered the room, greeted by walls stained red. The collision of spells had obliterated the chamber, leaving no trace of the necromancer.Bert let out a belch, and without a word, Bones turned and departed.

Clover awaited them at the top of the basement stairs. Upon seeing Bones, she immediately asked what had happened. Bones suggested they leave, promising to explain as they went.

The underground city mirrored its surface counterpart in bustling activity, but with a different populace. Children were conspicuously absent, replaced by thugs, drug dealers, thieves, and murderers. Here, the wanted and the lawless found refuge, free to be themselves without pretense. An equilibrium existed, where individuals lived between the righteous adventurers' realm and the Underground, embracing their true nature without the need for a facade.

After recounting the events with the necromancer, Bones inquired about the return of the others.

"Not sure. They should be back by evening, so... in a few hours? Want to head back?" Clover asked, and Bones nodded. It wasn't that Bones lacked interest in the Underground; he simply wanted to catch up with Solin after being away for a while. Besides, if Silva had wanted to introduce Bones to the Underground, he would have done so already.

Upon reaching the courtyard behind the tavern, Bones approached the bench stealthily and seated himself, so as not to disturb Solin's practice. He observed Solin deeply engrossed in meditation and waited patiently. When Solin finished, he took a deep breath and turned around with a smile. "Thank you for waiting, Bones! So much has happened while you were gone."

Solin rose and gestured for Bones to follow. "Come, let's go inside, and I'll fill you in on everything! But first, let me take a quick shower. I'll be right down." Bones chuckled at the youth's enthusiasm and followed him inside.

After a brief shower, Solin descended the stairs and joined Bones in one of the private booths, where drinks were already waiting. "Firstly, greetings, my friend! Secondly, the necromancer wishes to meet you. I'll, um... I'll take you there."

"No need, I've already met the man. He's dead," Bones replied casually. Solin's reaction mirrored Clover's nonchalance. "Oh... Anyway, you missed out on a wild dungeon!"

"Oh? What happened?" Bones diverted the conversation, sensing that neither Solin nor Clover were particularly interested in discussing the necromancer.

"Man, let me tell you! So, about three weeks ago..." Solin launched into an animated description of how the adventure guild received reports about a wild dungeon appearing in a remote area west of the capital. The guild promptly dispatched teams to assess the dungeon's challenges, and soon after, a notice was posted on the guild's board announcing the subjugation contract of the medium-sized dungeon.

Raid parties were quickly assembled, and Solin, among others, was fortunate enough to be included. The dungeon featured multiple entrances on each stage, accommodating a single raid party per entrance. Two teams were dispatched to tackle the first stage, which harbored bronze rank monsters and a silver rank boss. Another team ventured into the second stage, facing a gold rank boss, while a third party, led by a third-tier gold ranker, tackled the third and final stage.

However, unexpected challenges arose with the appearance of a mutant silver rank boss on both the first and third stages, resulting in numerous casualties. The dungeon, initially intended as an opportunity for lower-level adventurers to prove themselves and gain valuable experience, turned into a perilous trial for all involved.

Solin snorted, remarking, "They certainly got more experience than they bargained for." The appearance of the mutant boss practically guaranteed casualties. With two raid parties converging in the same instance, they joined forces to confront the boss, resulting in the deaths of at least fifteen individuals. The second stage proved slightly less disastrous, with only a few casualties. However, the raid on the third stage suffered the most losses. Facing the towering presence of the Minotaur Prime, a mutant variant monster, only the third-tier gold ranker and a handful of fortunate survivors emerged.

"They had the audacity to label the raid a success! Unbelievable," Solin exclaimed incredulously.

"Is the Minotaur similar to the creature that pulls carriages, but upright?" Bones inquired, his curiosity piqued. Solin nearly spat out his drink before bursting into laughter. "Yeah, I suppose you could say that, if you imagined it three times larger, heavily juiced up on enhancers, and wielding a massive battle-axe!"

"Anyway, I'd be lying if I said I didn't gain a lot from the dungeon. In just a few days there, I acquired more than I had in the past few months! Check out this bad boy!" Solin proudly displayed a set of leather armor, the reward for slaying the boss, and wiggled his new spatial ring in front of Bones. Bones chuckled, acknowledging Solin's significant gains, especially evident when he identified Solin and discovered he had reached level thirty.

“Two levels in two months? Impressive indeed. Speaking of items, I have something for you," Bones announced, catching Solin's attention. Solin raised an eyebrow as Bones placed two daggers on the table. His eyes widened as he examined them. Solin was passionate about his weapons, and he eagerly picked them up. "Beautiful white hilt, made of bones?" Bones confirmed, observing as Solin inspected the daggers. Running his finger along the edge, Solin noticed something different. With a slight infusion of his mana, a faint green tinge appeared on the edge. "Heh, poison? These are fantastic, Bones! Are you sure you want to give them to me? You could sell them at auction for a tidy sum!"

"The daggers are yours, but I wouldn't mind accompanying you to the auction," Bones replied graciously.

"I can take you there tomorrow. Actually, would you like to attend the arena matches tomorrow night?" Solin suggested, and Bones saw no reason to decline, so he agreed to both plans. As evening approached, Silva entered the booth and joined the conversation, already aware of Bones's return.

"A profession, you say?" Silva inquired with a smile. "Greetings, Bones. I'm pleased to see you've returned."

"Greetings, Silva. I did mention I'd be back once I advanced my class."

"And advance you did! No class change?" Silva asked, pouring himself a drink and sinking into his chair. The old man appeared weary. "No change, just an upgrade! I'm content with my current class," Bones affirmed. "Silva, I encountered the necromancer earlier today."

Before Bones could continue, Silva waved his hand dismissively. "I've heard you paid him a visit. What was his purpose?"

"To attempt to blast me away with Corpse Explosion, it seems," Bones replied nonchalantly.

Silva's fist slammed against the table, causing heads to turn in their direction. He quickly regained his composure, sinking back into his chair with a deep breath. "What happened?" he demanded, his voice tense with anger. Bones recounted the encounter with the necromancer, and Silva's anger simmered.

"That damn Pavlov..." Silva muttered.

Observing Silva's frenzied reaction, Bones sensed there was more to it than concern for his well-being. The old man seemed as if someone had threatened his most prized possession.

Bones admitted he didn't understand the necromancer's motives, but it no longer mattered; he was gone. Changing the subject, Bones broached a topic that had been weighing on his mind. "Silva, what happened to the undead army? I know the ones attacking Westbrook weren't all of them."

Silva didn't mind the question, but it was evident to Bones that he had missed a lot during his absence. As the night wore on and the others bid their farewells, Bones found himself alone in the booth, lost in his thoughts.

Perhaps due to Bones' prolonged absence, Silva seemed more forthcoming, and Bones gained insight into the Hounds. Decades ago, they were simply known as The Hounds—a group openly opposing corrupt leadership, oppressive practices, and the exploitation of the weak for personal gain and power. Over time, they gained a reputation among the people and adopted the moniker Defiant Hounds. Although the name persisted, their objectives underwent a shift.

Bones came to realize that their proclaimed noble goal, fighting the tyranny of the ascendants, was nothing more than terrorism. An example was their attack on Westbrook, a town once strategically important within the kingdom, housing an adventurer academy and serving as a frontline defense against monster incursions.

Silva didn't appear distraught over the necromancer's demise or the failure of their assault on Westbrook. He was already plotting something new, something grander. Bones learned about the tunnels beneath Westbrook, where their failed assault served as a diversion to steal certain items. These items were discovered in the armory, where weapons used in combating monster surges were stored. The acquired items were the same ones responsible for the explosion in the tunnels earlier that month - mana bombs.