The first guard's boots slammed on the crypt floor - torch glow warping his shadow into something crooked on the rock. Next came another set, bulkier, along with faint chimes of steel. Pair of guys. Wearing armor. Carrying blades. Breathing hard. Hearts pounding.
Aiden stayed still.
Leaning against the stone column, he tucked himself into the shadowy gap beyond the fire's glow. A chipped blade sat heavy in his palm, its frayed handle peeling with every squeeze. Shifting slightly, he balanced on tiptoes, skin barely brushing the icy ground.
"Stinks more than my sister's gym socks down here," a guard grumbled, words bouncing off the stone around him.
The other snorted. "It's a crypt, Jor. What did you expect, roses?"
The first guard, Jor, lifted his torch up a bit more, fire flickering. Light spilled across cracked bones and flat stones, moved past thick webs and grime, yet died before reaching the dark spot where Aiden stayed still.
"Priest swore he heard something," Jor grumbled. "Said a corpse was moving. I'm not paid enough for cursed dead."
The second guard laughed. "Relax. We're just making sure the traitor's body is still here. You know how nobles are. Paranoid."
Traitor.
Aiden's grip on the blade got stronger.
He sensed the anger inside him - it flowed slow, like icy liquid, steady and deep. Fear didn't rattle his fingers; it just lingered far off, faint. His mind stayed focused, crisp.
A quiet bell echoed through his thoughts.
Surprise attack is better. Right now, your numbers won't last in a straight fight
Aiden took a breath in - then let it go, little by little.
"Yeah," he thought. "I noticed."
The guards moved further into the tomb, their boots dragging across old dust. Jor went first, holding up a torch that barely cut through the dark; behind him came the other guard - bigger, wider - with his fingers loose on his sword's handle.
Aiden held back till they moved past his column.
One step. Two.
He moved.
He lunged ahead, weightless somehow, everything fading except the open slit in Jor's neck. A chipped blade cut the air, hissing like dry reeds.
The guard hardly got a chance to react.
Flesh tore under steel. Blood arced through the air - hot, thick, turning black in the flickering glow. Jor gasped, pupils huge, fingers scrabbling as fire hit stone with a clatter. Gurgling noises burst from his neck while his legs gave way beneath him.
The torch dropped, then rolled - fire flickering across the rock until it stopped by a cracked piece of stone. After that, shadows darted and twisted.
The second guard twisted fast. "Huh - ?!"
Jor dropped down by Aiden's feet, lips moving without sound while red spread under his face. One hand jerked - then nothing.
Aiden looked straight at him.
He expected to feel sick. Instead, nothing rose in him - no guilt, no dizziness. Just clarity, sharp and quiet, like scratching a notch into wood. A chill settled inside, not from regret, but something darker that stayed.
[Ding.]
[Optional Quest: First Blood – Completed.]
[Reward: Experience + 1 Basic Skill Shard.]
[Experience gained.]
[Grow stronger: 1 becomes 2.]
A flash of heat ripped through his lifeless frame - like boiling liquid surging into ice-cold blood. His arms and legs turned weightless, awareness cutting deeper. But just as fast, it faded, gone without warning; now he stood above the body, exhaling on instinct though no longer required.
"You—! What in the hells—"
The second guard staggered backward, pupils huge. "Wait - you? You should've been gone by now!"
Aiden looked up at him, a faint grin tugging one corner of his mouth. "Used to be."
The guard's face twisted. "Monster." His sword rasped from its scabbard. "The captain said your corpse might be cursed. I should've burned you myself."
Captain.
The moment a boot slammed into his ribs popped up in Aiden's mind.
He lifted his blade, aiming straight at the soldier - go on, give it a shot
The guy yelled out loud then rushed forward, his steel boots banging on the ground. As he swung his weapon downward in a wide curve, trying to cut Aiden apart from shoulder right down to thigh.
Aiden stepped back.
The blade crashed into rock, sending up bright flashes. With a swear, he tore it loose - then swung once more, aiming near the ground in a broad arc.
Speed.
Aiden moved fast, way ahead of his mind. He ducked - steel zipped past his skull - then drove his shoulder into the guard's ribs. Pain shot through him, yet the guy still wobbled backward, caught off guard by the raw force from someone who shouldn't even stand.
"Thought you were just a corpse," the guard snarled, regaining his footing. "Fine. I'll cut you into pieces this time."
He charged, faking a left then striking right. This wasn't random - Aiden saw it coming, his body reacting fast from old routines burned deep through endless practice.
His blade hit the guard's with a sharp clang. A jolt ran up his arm - less intense, though still present. With force behind him, the guard pushed ahead.
He was stronger.
Living tissue. The heart keeps going. Blood moves through veins.
Aiden's feet slipped through the loose dirt. With a smirk, the guard showed his teeth. "Just fall right."
A sharp sound echoed inside Aiden's mind.
[Basic Skill Shard integrating.]
[New Skill Unlocked: Grasp of the Grave (Active).]
Make ghost-like hands pop up from the floor to hold a live person still for just a sec - if they're close enough to touch. Lasts two seconds flat. Uses 5 points of Resentment
Aiden looked up - held the guard's gaze.
Two seconds.
It was enough.
He moved his stance, jaw tight. "Hold from the deep."
The ground under the guard shifted, moving like water after a splash. Out shot pale arms - thin, see-through - popping up from the rock. Their bony fingers grabbed his legs, wrapping tight just above the feet. One by one, more hands broke through, cold and silent.
The guard's eyes widened. "Huh - ?!"
He tried pulling away, yet the ghostly fingers clung tight, yanking him forward with eerie force. His footing slipped. Just for an instant, his weapon hand sagged.
Aiden moved.
He tore the blade loose from the clash, closing fast - slammed the corroded steel into the space where armor met neck. A screech of iron on iron... then it bit deep into muscle.
The guard yelled - harsh, shattered. Blood drenched Aiden's fists while he drove the knife farther in. Ghostly fingers melted into rock when the guy lost power, legs giving way.
Aiden ripped the blade out, then moved fast - the corpse hit the dirt behind him.
Silence took over the crypt once more, interrupted just by the gentle snap of the dropped torch.
The scent of blood got heavier - metallic, salty, mixed with a hint that ought to've turned Aiden's stomach. Yet he just registered it, sorta like how a tracker senses which way the breeze blows.
[Ding.]
[Enemy defeated.]
[Experience gained.]
Aiden breathed out, eyes dropping to his hands. Blood ran off his fingertips - thick, shiny under the shaky glow.
He flexed them.
Nothing trembled.
One time, right after taking a life in combat, he puked beside a smashed cart - his hands trembled so much he struggled to undo his helmet strap. Screams. Burning air. Stench. For days, those memories wouldn't let up.
Now, looking down at two dead bodies, he didn't feel rage - just a slow peace, a low sense of relief they were left behind instead of him.
"Undead," he murmured. "You changed more than my pulse."
The system didn't say a thing.
He jumped past Jor's corpse, then squatted next to the other soldier, cleaning the knife on the guy's shirt. His eyes locked onto the badge stuck to the uniform - tiny silver lion standing up, got a crown on its head.
Royal insignia.
He used to wear that exact thing too.
Aiden's jaw tightened.
He took off the badge, flipping it around to check the reverse side. There, a small mark read: V.S. 13th Company.
He'd seen that unit before - city patrol, right? Meant for quiet jobs, mostly running tasks around town. Not much action involved.
"You weren't here by accident," he said quietly.
He checked the guard's belt, spotting a crumpled parchment shoved in a small leather bag. Opening it up, his eyes moved across the sloppy handwriting.
"Confirm corpse is intact. Report any unusual activity. Do not open coffin without priest present. — Captain Holt."
Holt.
Aiden crushed the parchment in his hand. In his head, the guy's laugh echoed - cold, teasing - while that heavy boot pushed down on his ribs.
Way too powerful. Folks say your name way more than the king's son. Not happening. Can't allow it.
His fingers loosened bit by bit. Then he tucked the rolled-up paper into his torn pants' edge.
"Good," he whispered. "One of my targets still cares whether I'm here."
He took off the guard's armor fast, without wasting time. Though the pieces hung slightly baggy on his thin build, he adjusted them with the buckles. It didn't matter much - the load felt light, since his lifeless form never got tired.
From the second guard, then, came the sword - neither old nor dull like that junk from the body table. Swung it a bit to check how it felt; gave one quick nod after.
"Better."
He looked toward the floating menus dimly lit along his sight line.
[Name: Aiden Cross]
[Title: The Dead Man]
[Race: Undead (Bound Soul)]
[Level: 2]
[Strength: 9]
[Agility: 8]
Stamina: none - heart's not beating at all
[Magic: 11]
[Resentment: 95/100]
[Skill: Grasp of the Grave (Lv.1)]
Anger was down by five - this time, that's what the move set him back.
He slid the sharp blade into its holder by his side, then headed for the stairs across the dark room.
Stone steps led up into the dark, their corners softened by years of footsteps. From somewhere overhead, a weak breeze drifted down, bringing along a touch of cleaner air - also faint murmurs, hard to make out.
Life.
Aiden moved forward - once, twice. His armor made faint sounds, metal sliding against worn leather. The torch stayed where it fell, left behind without a second thought. Darkness closed in, yet his gaze held steady, seeing clearly through lifeless eyes.
Midway through, a new alert popped up.
[Main Quest: Vengeance of the Dead – Active.]
New info: A top enemy still leads the king's army. Because of them, power reaches every part of the city
Gather the facts first. Check how strong they are. Stay away from main threats right now - wait for a better moment
Aiden's lip curled. "So even you think I'm weak."
[Current Level: Insufficient for direct confrontation.]
He exhaled through his nose, something almost like a laugh slipping out. "Don't worry. I've died once already. I'm in no hurry to repeat it."
One foot after another, he kept going till the tight staircase led into a tiny room made of rock. In front stood a thick wood door, held together with rusted metal strips, ancient and stiff. Faint glow slipped through cracks around it.
He put his ear close to the wooden surface.
Silence. Just empty air. Nothing moving. Not a sound anywhere.
He pressed his palm on the door, then shoved. The hinges creaked - stiff from disuse. A gap grew bigger, letting a rush of cold air hit his skin.
He stepped out.
Night greeted him.
The sky arched overhead - pitch dark, dotted with icy pinpricks of light. Below, the moon sagged near the horizon, a pale sliver slicing weak mist. Wind bit sharply, pulling at loose fabric wherever metal plates left gaps, hauling along damp soil smells mixed with far-off burning.
He was standing by an old cemetery, left behind years ago. Broken tombstones tilted every which way, many hidden under weeds that grew high. A bent railing, part of it gone to rot, marked where the land ended. Past that line, thick woods pressed close - silent shapes seeming to keep watch.
Far off, past the trees and low hills, lights glowed on the edge of sight - one hundred or more, soft yellow, unblinking.
The capital.
His capital.
The city he'd given everything to. Yet it celebrated the day he was gone.
A quiet anger crept through his empty ribs, gripping his spirit like frost. While it grew heavier, the chill sank deeper into who he was. Though silent, its weight pressed hard against every thought.
[Ding.]
[New Quest Unlocked: Return to the Kingdom That Killed You.]
[Objective: Reach the outskirts of the capital.]
Reward: you gain experience - unlock fresh spots
Aiden gazed at the far-off glow, his hand tightening on the handle of a blade he'd taken - leather groaning under pressure.
Somewhere past those stone walls, Prince Kael dozed off on a bed covered in silken cloth; meanwhile, Seris flashed that fake grin while mingling with nobles at court - over by the barracks, Captain Holt joked around with his soldiers, mocking the knight they'd tossed away like rusted metal.
He was stuck in a cold cell, or so they believed.
He moved ahead, his boots cracking through parched weeds.
"If they want to celebrate my death," Aiden murmured, voice low and steady, "let them. When they realize I'm not where they left me…"
He grinned - sharp, like a blade's edge.
"…it'll be too late to start praying."