Bones rattled in response. The ground split open and a skeleton slowly climbed out, clutching a rusty sword in its bony hand. Its empty eye sockets flickered with a pale, eerie glow, its gaze locked onto Aiden like he was its master.
He stared at it, not even surprised. "Yep... As expected a skeleton undead."
He examined the skeleton more closely. Nothing impressive just brittle bones, a cracked ribcage, and a rusty sword barely holding together.
He wonder how this skeleton would fare against those guys from earlier.
Suddenly, one of the men from the group returned, walking back into the cemetery while grumbling to himself.
When he spotted Aiden standing there alive, his face drained of all color.
"You... you’re alive?" he stammered, stumbling back. "Impossible! You were stabbed through the heart!"
Aiden didn’t bother replying. He simply gave a mental command.
Go.
The skeleton lunged forward with a rasping clatter of bones.
The man froze for half a heartbeat, stunned by the sight a literal skeleton, gripping a sword, rushing straight at him.
"What the—?!"
He snapped out of it just in time, drawing his blade with practiced ease. His stance shifted automatically into a basic martial posture: one foot sliding back, weight centered, sword angled downward to deflect.
The skeleton didn’t slow down. It swung its rusty sword in a crude, horizontal slash.
Clang!
The man blocked the strike, but the impact pushed him a step back, more from shock than force.
He shouted, voice trembling. "What kind of demonic art is this!?"
The skeleton attacked again, its movements messy but relentless. Its arms jerked stiffly, but every attack came with full force no hesitation, no fear.
The man parried twice, then twisted his blade, slipping into a low sweeping technique. His sword sliced across the skeleton’s knee joint.
The bone cracked.
But the undead didn’t fall. It simply staggered, then stabbed forward in a straight thrust.
The man cursed and dodged sideways. He countered with a palm strike, slamming his hand into the skeleton’s skull. The blow sent the skull spinning off its spine.
But before it even hit the ground, Aiden commanded again.
Attack.
The body moved on instinct, head or no head, swinging wildly. The man stumbled back in terror.
"H-how is it still moving!?"
Aiden stepped out from behind the tombstone, expression cold.
The skeleton’s sword slashed across the man’s arm, drawing blood. He hissed, rage overtaking fear. He pushed off the ground, spinning into a roundhouse kick. His heel smashed into the skeleton’s ribcage, shattering bones and sending the undead tumbling across the dirt.
But as the bones scattered... they twitched.
Then they began to pull back together.
The man trembled. "What kind of monster is this!!?"
The fight dragged on steel clashing against rusty bone, dirt kicking up with every desperate movement. The man’s breathing grew heavier, his footwork sloppier. Fear gnawed at his focus.
The skeleton lunged again.
This time, he was a fraction too slow.
Shhk!
The rusty blade pierced straight into his chest, right through the heart.
His eyes widened in disbelief. He swayed, tried to speak... then collapsed onto the ground, lifeless.
Aiden let out a long breath, leaning against a tombstone. The skeleton stood shakily beside him, several bones cracked or chipped from the battle.
"Damn..." he muttered.
During the fight, he’d had to repair the skeleton twice. Each time he used the repair command, a wave of weakness washed through his body, draining him from the inside out. His limbs still felt heavy.
"So this is what it feels like to run out of mana?" Aiden grumbled, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
Aiden didn’t waste a single second. The moment the cultivator dropped dead, he recalled his skeleton and slipped out of the cemetery, moving as fast as his exhausted body allowed. He didn’t know when the others would return, and he had no intention of finding out.
Only when he was far enough, trees blocking the cemetery from view, his breaths no longer ragged.
A transparent screen floated quietly in front of him.
He focused on it, and the text sharpened:
[You have killed a normal practitioner.
Reward: 100 experience points.]
Aiden blinked. "A hundred...?"
That was enough to push him straight to level 2.
He let out a shaky laugh. "So killing someone really gives experience."
Aiden opened his skill tree, watching the branches of abilities unfold in front of him.
"Just like in the game," he muttered. "I get one skill point every level."
He scanned the list carefully. At the moment, what he needed most wasn’t damage, it was survival. He was painfully aware of how vulnerable he was without protection.
"Oh... Bone Shield." His eyes lit up. "That’s perfect."
He invested the point.
A moment later, he activated the skill. A small shield made entirely of bone materialized beside him, hovering like a loyal guardian. It wasn’t big, but on instinct alone, Aiden felt it could block at least one good hit.
"Nice," he whispered. "This will help."
Then another thought hit him, and he glanced back in the direction of the cemetery.
"I want to try something... Can I summon that practitioner from earlier?" he wondered aloud. "He should be stronger than the skeleton I pulled from the grave."
If his guess was right...
"And if he remembers any martial arts in his body..." Aiden’s heartbeat quickened with excitement.
"That would be one hell of an advantage."
Aiden waited a couple of hours before he dared return to the cemetery. He moved carefully, keeping low, checking every shadow. When he finally reached the place where the fight had happened, the body was still there.
But the ground around it told a story. Footprints, several of them, circling the corpse.
"So they came back," Aiden muttered. "But they didn’t even bother to bury you... how pitiful."
He crouched beside the dead practitioner, studying the lifeless face.
"You should just become my undead," he said softly. "At least then I can put you to good use."