[Class: Reaper] (Exclusive Hidden Class)
[Greed Trait]
All personal skill effects are doubled.
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Level too low—locked.
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Level too low—locked.
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The "Greed" of the Reaper was like three divine edicts carved directly onto his class panel. And even though only the first was active, its might was already terrifying—every single skill effect, doubled.
Alex's fingers brushed the bone staff at his side. His heart surged not only with excitement, but with a burning curiosity toward the boundaries of his new power.
Of course, he still had one free Evolve left to use on his skills. But such a move should not be wasted here, under the watchful eyes of the novice village. Invincibility was far away—showboating now was foolish.
He raised his staff and chanted in a whisper:
[Summon Skeleton]
A pale gray vortex tore open beside him. Two skeletal figures stepped out in unison, their eye sockets flickering with tiny flames, falling into formation at his sides.
"Clack… clack…"
The skeletons were pitiful to behold—bones chalky white and riddled with cracks, iron swords rusted and notched, their very frames looking ready to crumble. Yet in this digitized world, appearance was no measure of strength.
"…Instant cast."
Alex's eyes gleamed. The doubling trait hadn't just increased their number from one to two. It had also doubled the effect of Summoning Amplification: what was once a 50% cooldown reduction had been stacked into a perfect 100%.
The conclusion was simple—
For him, [Summon Skeleton] now had no cooldown.
"Do their stats double as well?"
He pulled up the summon panel:
[Skeleton]
Strength: 20
Constitution: 20
Agility: 20
Spirit: 20
HP: 200 / 200
Attack: 20
Defense: 10
Skills: None
(A lowest-tier skeleton, but with dual enhancements, barely qualifies as a "Skeleton Warrior.")
The two skeletons shared identical stats—plain, but formidable.
By default, with his 10 Spirit, a skeleton's four attributes should have been only 5 points each.
But now, under the combined boost of Summoning Amplification and Greed's Doubling, those stats had been multiplied—quadrupled in full.
Even more terrifying was the fact that as long as there was space left in his summoning slots, he could keep calling forth more undead.
And with the Reaper's class bonus, his summon cap had risen from 1 to 10.
A legion of calamity—only a matter of time.
"Your talent's at least A-rank, isn't it?"
A voice cut in. Alex turned his head to see a swordsman approaching. His ID hovered above him: Nightstalker. The man's gaze lingered on the two skeletons beside Alex—taller, sturdier than normal—his eyes narrowing thoughtfully.
Alex smiled lightly. "Yeah. A-rank. Summon enhancement."
At this stage of the Trial, most couldn't yet conceal their IDs. With his skeletons spawning two at a time, and standing larger than ordinary necromancer summons, it was only natural they drew attention.
"Want to party up? I've got an A-rank talent too. We'll clear things faster together."
Nightstalker lifted his sword in invitation. By now, the village gate had gathered dozens of players, all scrambling to recruit teammates.
This might have been called a "Novice Village," but the monsters outside were anything but novice.
Even the weakest creature near the gates could kill a player one-on-one.
[Chicken]
Level: 1
HP: 100 / 100
Attack: 10
Physical Defense: 5
Magic Defense: 5
Dozens of white lights flashed in the distance—the resurrection prompts of players being slain and sent back to spawn.
Alex thought coldly: If not for my Forbidden talent, that chicken could kill me ten times over with a single peck.
But now? It wasn't even worthy of warm-up practice.
With his two skeletons in tow, he slipped quietly away from the noisy chaos at the gate. Around him, battle cries echoed as players clashed desperately with chickens.
He glanced sideways and caught sight of another necromancer's skeletons—barely four feet tall, stumbling with rusty swords like children too small to hold them straight. His brow lifted in disdain.
"Damn it! Why did I pick tank? These chickens peck like hell!" someone howled nearby.
"Cut the crap and just kill the chicken already!"
"Damn it, this chicken's got higher attack than me!"
"At Level 0, you're weaker than a Level 1 chicken!"
"Forget this, I'm heading back to see if there are any life professions. Whoever wants to fight poultry, be my guest!"
"Hey, look at Alex—his skeletons are half a head taller than mine!"
Alex ignored the chatter. Most of the chickens near the village gates already had aggro on other players; he couldn't be bothered to fight over scraps. Instead, he strode straight toward the higher-level zones in the distance.
A translucent minimap hovered in the corner of his vision, guiding his steps. Before long, he crossed into the territory of Level 2 monsters.
[Rabbit]
Level: 2
HP: 150 / 150
Attack: 15
Physical Defense: 7
Magic Defense: 7
(Caution: beware its leaping "Precision Strike.")
Fewer players roamed this area. Those who dared venture here were either A-rank soloists, tightly coordinated parties—
Or fools whose courage outweighed their common sense.
Perhaps it was simply because these rabbits looked painful to fight.
Alex's gaze slid sideways. Two tank players were on the ground, rolling in agony as a rabbit headbutted them square between the legs.
"Good thing I don't need to get my hands dirty."
His lips twitched. With a mere thought, his skeletons marched forward, rusted swords raised, and clashed with the red-eyed rabbit.
–12
–18
The beast shrieked, ramming its skull into a skeleton's chest.
–13
But skeletons felt no pain. Blades rose and fell with mechanical indifference. Against such low-level monsters, Alex didn't even bother with positioning.
Numbers and raw stats crushed technique.
Once he was sure no prying eyes from the village gate remained, his eyes gleamed coldly and he lifted his staff once more:
[Summon Skeleton]
The gray vortex swirled open again. Two more bone soldiers emerged, stepping into line.
The thrill of a spell with no cooldown was like fire dancing through his veins.
Summon Slots: 4 / 10
The rabbit's screams were drowned beneath the clang of steel and the gnash of bones. Moments later, it dissolved into motes of experience.
Alex didn't even pause. He kept walking forward. Every few dozen steps, he summoned another pair of skeletons—
Two became four, four became six…
Until at last, his army reached a full ten.
At last, Alex exhaled lightly and turned his palm.
[Life Link]—Activate.
An invisible strand of ghostly blue light stretched forth, latching onto the ribcage of the foremost skeleton.
From that moment, his fragile 1/1 HP was hidden like an underground river, transferred behind the wall of undead—
As long as his minion stood, he would not die.
"Next…"
His gaze swept toward the shadowed depths of the treeline. The monsters there were stronger, denser, the risk far greater. Few players dared set foot inside. Even parties that passed by often chose to skirt around.
But Alex would not.
He lifted his staff, his voice cold as iron:
"Form ranks. Advance."
Ten skeletons marched in unison, clack, clack, their rusted blades raised as one.
Crimson eyes glimmered within the brush—red-eyed rabbits leaping from the undergrowth. But before their claws could strike, swords came crashing down.
Steel flashed through the grass. Blood sprayed across the earth.
Several warriors who had been watching from a distance instinctively clutched their thighs and shuffled back, faces pale.
"Some attacks…" one muttered, "just look painful."
Alex's tone was indifferent, like remarking on the weather.
He didn't pause, didn't gloat. Step by step, he drove his skeletal phalanx deeper into the wilds—
Toward richer experience, rarer materials, and above all, the speed he needed.
Time was not his ally.
And the true playstyle of the Reaper…
was only just beginning.