[DING!]You have advanced from the class {pile of bones} to the class {skeleton slave}.
The world slowly returns… or maybe begins for the first time.In the thick darkness of a silent cavern, a sharp sound echoes: CLACK. A bone snaps into place. Then another. Slowly, methodically, white fragments pull together, drawn by an invisible will. From a jumble of remains, a humanoid shape rises: a fragile, clumsy skeleton, trembling slightly like a newborn. Its empty eye sockets suddenly flicker with a faint green flame, wavering like a candle in the wind.
The skeleton stumbles, looks at its bony hands, and touches its own hollow skull.No memories. Just one word, floating deep within what might be its mind: "me?"
In front of it, a figure straightens in the shadows.A squat man, draped in black robes as old as time, extends a withered hand, palm open. His pale eyes gleam with an unhealthy light, and his smile... oh gods. Rotten. Literally. A gummy, festering grin. He reeks of death, dampness, and abandonment. He bursts into a raspy, bony laugh.
— "Good, good... Another success. How might you serve me, my lovely thing?"
[DING!]A window appears.
A semi-transparent green interface flickers to life above the old man's hand. Lines of floating text shimmer in the air:
[CHOOSE A CLASS]{Skeleton Soldier}: melee class, specialized in strength and defense.{Skeleton Thief}: melee class, specialized in speed and agility.{Skeleton Archer}: ranged class, specialized in speed and precision.{Skeleton Apprentice}: magic class, specialized in intelligence and wisdom.
[DING!]Your past life unlocks an additional class:
{Skeleton Leader}: universal class. Customize your own specialization. Access to unique skills.
The old necromancer raises an eyebrow, intrigued.
— "Oh~ interesting. A rare class... Who were you, I wonder?"He shrugs and chuckles.— "No matter. Let's see what you can do."
His crooked finger taps {Skeleton Leader}.
[DING!]You have advanced from the class {skeleton slave} to the class {skeleton leader}.
A flash of green light explodes. The window shatters into floating particles.The necromancer blinks, confused.
— "What the... Why did the window vanish?!"
[DING!]Thanks to the {skeleton leader} class, you gain a {SOUL}.
Silence.The skeleton freezes. Then, a voice resonates within. Clear, mechanical, almost gentle.
"...What? Where am I? Who's that guy? What just happened?"
The flames in its sockets flare. They grow, from a flicker to a true green blaze. A strange warmth spreads through its empty skull. It thinks. It feels.
[DING!]You are in a necromancer's lair.You are dead. Your soul has been chosen to take part in the King's Race.
"The King's Race? Is that supposed to mean something?"
[DING!]The King's Race is a divine contest to choose the next Monster King. Eight souls are reincarnated into undead creatures. The strongest of them shall rule.
"That sounds... incredibly irresponsible."[DING!]The gods are wise and benevolent."And who are you supposed to be?"[DING!]I am your personal assistant, granted by the God of Death: Azael.
The skeleton looks at its hands again. Trembling. Not in fear. In excitement.A purpose. A chance. A... soul.
But the necromancer is panicking.
— "No. No no no. This shouldn't be... I must get rid of you!"
[DING!]Warning: the necromancer is going to attack you.
"WHAT?!"
The old man brandishes a staff topped with a child's skull. He chants a spell and hurls a blast of black fire straight at the skeleton. The flames hit…
…And do absolutely nothing. The skeleton stands tall, the green fire in its eyes unshaken.
— "Why isn't it burning?!"
He looks down. The skeleton's hand is glowing with an eerie green light.
[DING!]Your affinity with the Death God grants immunity to [Necrotic Damage].Would you like more information?
"Not right now."
The skeleton steps forward, slowly. The necromancer backs away, tripping over another pile of bones. He raises a hand——but the skeleton's is already blazing. A green flame, alive and pulsing in his clenched fist.
The fist crashes into the necromancer's face. He screams. The fire spreads, consuming him. His shrieks echo through the cavern, dreadful and endless.
— "AAAAAH! Mercy! It burns! AAAAAAH!"
Then silence. Only a pile of ash remains... and a cracked skull.
[DING!]You are now level 8.You have gained 5 skill points.New skill unlocked: {Flame Fist}.