A small creature dragged its way across the dirt, inch by inch. Two slender antennae twitched forward; a soft, glistening trail marked its progress. Its shell, a smooth spiral with muted streaks of brown and beige, caught the morning light like polished stone.

The snail.

A humble being. Gastropod, some would say. Patient and steady; born without hurry, without hate. Its shell, though fragile, bore the marks of a life spent among roots and fallen leaves. In its own quiet way, it was beautiful.

"They're over here! After them!"

The snail pressed forward, undisturbed by the shouts echoing through the trees. In its world, there were no swords, no guards, no fugitives. Only earth, dew, and time.

Snails, after all, played an important role in the ecosystem—breaking down waste, feeding the soil, cycling life through decay and rebirth. Even here, beneath a forest trail, it performed its duty without applause.

"Keep running!"

"I am!"

The snail, unbothered by its surroundings, continues to trudge forward. It lives its life, each second at a time. Regardless of the rumble, it continues to trail its slime. Even as the large, white rock above it, cast a dark shadow beneath it, it continued to ignore—

Crunch!

And so, the majestic life of the snail, comes to an end.

A white skeletal paw the size of a man's chest came down like a hammer, shattering shell and soil alike. Ted.E thundered past, his heavy frame kicking up clods of earth and scattering the trail into chaos.

"Keep running!" Pell's voice rang out, hoarse with exertion.

His bones clattered wildly as he sprinted, limbs pumping with unnatural rhythm. There was no robe to hide his form, no illusion to disguise the bare truth of what he was—a walking skeleton, with a pack half-strapped to his spine. His jaw was clenched; his glowing eye sockets flicked sideways with every uneven, rushed step.

Just ahead, Enya clung tight to the ridged back of her boarbear mount. Ted.E barreled forward, jaw low and shoulders squared, skeletal joints clicking with each ground-churning stride. Dust and dirt sprayed out from behind them as they stormed down the forest trail.

"Pell—! Why?!" Enya shouted. Her voice bounced with disbelief, the jarring ride making her voice rise and fall with each gallop.

Pell didn't even glance at her. "What—did you expect me to do?!" he barked, nearly tripping over a root. "Bow down and fall apart into pieces?!"

"They thought you were attacking the town!"

"Because they're some damn species-ists," he snapped. "They don't exactly like monsters unlike Talo!"

Behind them, the guards had split into two groups. One ran along the trail, the other was cutting through the brush to flank them. Steel glinted in the light between trees. Shouts echoed from all directions; swords were drawn, spears lowered. Some were mercenaries, judging by the mismatched armor; others wore the green-tinted uniform of the local watch.

"The monsters are up here!" one yelled. "The little girl summoned another undead beast!"

"She's riding on top of it like some evil witch!"

"Keep chasing!"

Up ahead, the trail twisted, then opened wider.

A trio of green monsters loitered at a shallow bend, filthy clubs in hand and dried blood smeared across their faces. They were bare, save for a white loincloth. Their yellow eyes blinked slowly as they turned; they hadn't expected company.

"Goblins!" Pell shouted, pointing.

"I see them!" Enya replied, adjusting her grip. "Ted.E, don't stop—just keep running!"

Ted.E didn't need a second command.

With a sudden surge of speed, the boarbear plowed forward. The nearest goblin managed half a scream before it was obliterated beneath a solid wall of bone and mass. The crunch was immediate; its body was crushed, a giant footprint over its torso.

System Notification: You have landed a killing blow on Goblin (Level 6). You have received 61 EXP.

Enya ignored the notification; now wasn't the time to be worried about it. The remaining goblins were too stunned to react and were soon left behind in the dust. The pursuing guards would deal with them soon enough.

"Get out of the way, you stupid green bastards!" Pell shouted.

His stance shifted. With a small jerk of his right arm, he channeled his skill. Dark energy misted around his palm, swirling fast as it formed into a long, menacing shape. He grasped it tightly as it solidified—a blackened scythe with a cruel curve and a sharp, smooth edge.

The Soul Harvester Scythe.

He held it out with a backwards grip, tip angled low. Then he crouched, bones tense, and charged forward.

A goblin just ahead snarled with rage. It raised a crude club, screeching as it lunged.

Pell didn't slow.

He surged into a dash and swung wide. The scythe cut cleanly through the air—and through the goblin's neck. No resistance met his blade; flesh split apart like wet parchment. The goblin's head launched upward in a lazy arc while the body dropped lifelessly in the opposite direction.

Without missing a beat, Pell pivoted on his heel, spun with the motion, and unsummoned the scythe mid-turn. The dark weapon dispersed into smoke before the goblin's head hit the ground.

You have harvested Soul-Energy. Soul-Energy Harvested: 28

Ahead of him, Ted.E bounded forward, clearing a fallen log in a single leap. His thick back legs crashed down on the trunk's edge, splintering the wood beneath them with a crack. Enya screamed at the jolt, nearly bouncing off, though her arms stayed wrapped tight around his spine. Her hair whipped against her face, flailing wildly and blinding her vision.

This wasn't how she imagined their return to the first layer.

A thunderous boom cracked behind them.

Pell twisted his skull completely around and caught a blinding flash. His sockets narrowed. That was thunder; and if there was thunder, there was—

Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

He threw himself into a dive.

Tucking his limbs in, he rolled twice, just as a searing bolt of lightning sliced through the air behind him. The blast scorched the air where his skull had been a second earlier. Dirt kicked up over his back as he tumbled; dry leaves wedged into his joints. He sprang upright mid-motion and kept moving.

The lightning bolt didn't stop.

It hit a tree several dozen meters ahead, tearing into the trunk with a sharp crack. The bark blackened instantly. The branches began to shudder, then creak. Leaves rustled violently above as the thick trunk started to tilt.

"Keep going!" Pell barked.

Enya urged Ted.E onward without pause. Pell veered slightly off-course and broke toward the falling tree.

He stopped near its base and reared back. His skeletal fingers curled into a tight fist. Then, using every ounce of force his soul-forged bones could muster, he punched the backside of the damaged trunk.

The wood groaned louder; his strike was enough to push it past the tipping point. And that's all he wanted.

Pell didn't wait to see what would happen.

He spun and sprinted again just as the tree collapsed fully behind him, slamming into the trail with a crashing thud. It wasn't enough to stop the guards—but it would slow them. And sometimes, that was the only difference between getting caught and making it out alive.

Pell sprinted hard, bones clattering beneath the rising heat. He caught up to Enya within seconds, his stride still frantic but steady. Ted.E kept pace beside him, kicking up leaves and clumps of dirt with each thunderous step.

"We need a plan," Pell muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

His fingers flicked forward mid-run. A transparent screen blinked to life in front of him.

The marketplace.

A familiar layout rendered in faint gold and gray shone, filling with a near limitless amount of listings. His eyes darted across the options, searching fast. Then, with a snap decision, he selected an item.

A small orb blinked into existence.

It was no larger than his palm, matte black with faint gray lines coiling around its surface. Pell caught it and clenched it tight as the interface vanished.

He looked over to Enya, sockets glowing brighter beneath the shifting light.

"Hey, I've got something—but you'll have to say goodbye to Numbskull."

Enya's head jerked toward him, hair plastered to her face from the sweat and wind. "What? No! I'm not losing another summon—!"

Ted.E vaulted over another uneven patch of grass; his hooves clipped a rock, and Enya's body jolted violently. Her head whipped forward, then back, her vision spinning in her skull.

She winced. "Okay! Fine! I agree! Just—do something!"

Behind them, shouting grew louder. The guards were closing the gap—some were on foot, trained swordsmen by the look of them; others galloped hard on horses, armor clanking and hooves thundering.

Pell didn't wait. He hurled the gray ball behind him with a swift overhead toss.

A second later, it hit the dirt.

A hiss of pressure burst from the impact. A cloud of thick, gray smoke exploded across the trail, spreading outward with unnatural speed. It swallowed the path behind them, engulfing trees and brush in a sudden curtain of fog.

"Stay sharp!" one of the guards called out. "Smoke—spread out and approach slow!"

Another guard raised a sword, his voice steady. "We're still on them; don't let the trail go cold!"

Then a shape moved inside the fog.

Tall, lurching, and broad-shouldered. A large monster's silhouette.

The smoke shifted as something massive stepped forward, bones creaking audibly with each movement. A skeletal ogre stood among them now—Numbskull, easily three times the height of a man. Its body swayed once, then lunged.

One arm, thick and powerful, dragged along the dirt before swinging upward in a brutal uppercut.

It caught a mounted guard across the chest; horse and rider were flung sideways, armor ringing as the man slammed into a tree trunk. He groaned once before going limp.

"Engage it!" a mercenary barked. "Bring it down!"

Weapons were drawn. Spells began to charge. The group split formation and attacked on all sides. They swiped at the monster's legs, chipping bone fragments, while dodging its wide swings.

Then, through the haze, another shape emerged.

A single human-sized skeleton wandered out—thin, unarmed, and slow. It didn't even raise its hands.

One of the guards scoffed. "This one's mine."

He dashed forward and executed a flurry skill, his blade flashing with brief arcs of light. The strikes connected cleanly; bones flew apart, scattering into the grass like brittle sticks. The guard spat, unimpressed.

"Waste of—"

The ground trembled.

A low hum pulsed beneath the earth.

Before anyone could react, the earth convulsed.

Bone spears erupted from below in violent bursts—some narrow like pikes, others thick as fence posts. Their arrival tore up roots and scattered dirt; none struck true, but that hardly mattered. The formation collapsed in a wave of disarray.

Guards shouted and scrambled. One horse shrieked and reared, its rider flung sideways with a heavy crash. Shields came up reflexively; blades shifted to guard stance. Others stumbled, cursed, or flinched low to avoid the jagged growths sprouting from the soil.

Still, the colossal figure held their attention.

Numbskull had lifted itself again, standing half-wreathed in the thinning fog. Its fists dragged low, carving small trenches through the smoke-covered trail as it tilted its upper body forward, shoulders rolling like it was winding up for another devastating charge.

"Damn monsters!" a guard barked.

He stepped forward; a broad, scarred man, clearly the leader. His stance radiated purpose, armor tight across his frame, eyes narrowed beneath a dented helm. As the others flinched or hesitated, he moved.

Power surged through his limbs as he activated a skill. The air shimmered faintly as if the very space around him bent in acknowledgment.

He bent his knees, then launched.

A single bound hurled him through the air; the force cracked the earth beneath where he had stood. His greatsword, gripped in both hands, sliced forward in a wide, clean arc.

The blade struck Numbskull directly across the torso.

Bone shattered instantly. The massive skeleton didn't even get the chance to fall properly; the strike bisected it at the chest, scattering ribs in a sharp explosion of brittle fragments. Its upper half hit the ground hard, disintegrating further as it rolled.

The commander landed on the other side, knees bent, posture tight. He exhaled once, then turned his head to the thinning fog.

White mist still drifted across the path. Shapes within it shifted but never clarified. Visibility was barely a few feet in any direction.

He scanned the chaos behind him.

One of his men was helping another up from the dirt, their horse long gone. Another cursed while gripping a bruised arm. A third had only now risen from a sprawled heap. Blood spattered the trail near the trees.

They weren't ready for another chase.

And that girl—she was gone.

He stared into the fog one last time, then sheathed his blade.

"If you come back," he muttered, barely loud enough for the others to hear, "there won't be any mercy."

Far in the distance, Pell and Enya continued their escape, the tireless rhythm of undead stamina carrying them across the forest trail. Clacks of bone and pounding hooves echoed softly through the trees, growing fainter with every step.

Four days later

"There's a village up ahead," Enya said, her voice calm but alert.

Her eyes glowed a faint yellow as her senses extended outward, sweeping the terrain several hundred meters ahead. She had grown more proficient with Absolute Focus. The mental strain that once shortened her concentration had dulled over time; now she could maintain the skill for minutes without blinking.

It had been four days since they fled from the guards. Four days of moving through dense woodland, sleeping on mossy hillsides, and dodging more creatures than Enya cared to count. They'd packed well, thankfully. Dried rations, filtered water, a few spare flasks of mana. It was enough to keep going without worry. That, and her skeletal minions didn't need to sleep, carrying her forward as she got some shut-eye.

During the day, with her Absolute Focus, they avoided most of the monsters that littered the forest: goblin packs, roaming trolls, and green wolves that hunted in coordinated bursts. On the second day, Enya even spotted something resembling a dragon, if dragons lacked heads and moved like spiders. She didn't get close enough to learn more.

"For the record, I absolutely hate this," Pell muttered.

Enya stepped off Ted.E with a soft thump. She held him gently in both hands—just his skull now, polished clean and a little dirt-scuffed near the jaw. His full skeletal body had been left behind, buried under some dirt, moss, and brambles somewhere deeper in the woods.

"It's better than walking into a village looking like a monster," Enya replied. "You said that yourself."

"I was half-joking," Pell grumbled. "Not everything I say needs to be followed like a decree."

"Well, too bad. We're doing it," Enya said with a smile. She hugged his skull tight to her chest, clearly happy about the plan.

He let out something between a sigh and a rattle, stuffed between her arms. "Next time, we try something normal. Like shoving me into a backpack and saying you have a magical talking backpack."

Ahead, the forest cleared into a wide dirt path, and just beyond it stood a small town: wooden buildings nestled behind a short border fence, with hay-stuffed watchposts flanking the gate. Two guards stood lazily at the entrance, armor loose around their waists and helmets tilted back. One leaned against a spear; the other had a hand-rolled smoke dangling from his mouth.

The taller one spoke mid-joke, but then paused, eyes narrowing.

"What the hell is that?"

His partner turned, following the line of his gaze. The cigarette slipped from his lips.

She walked calmly, her arms wrapped gently around what appeared to be a skull. Her robes fluttered faintly with the breeze. Her hair, a little tangled from travel, still framed her face in an almost serene way.

A girl.

Alone.

Carrying a human skull.

Her steps were soft, her face calm. Just a sweet, unnerving, adorable little girl with a talking skull in her arms.

No monsters here. Certainly nothing suspicious.

"This feels oddly familiar," Pell muttered under his hollow breath.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.