Deciding Vengeance

The skeletons were definitely exploitable, even for tasks not including combat. I could see many other uses for them, but the two at the moment were already pretty useful.

I had no other thoughts as I watch the swords return to their sheath on the skeleton's sides after being misused as shovels. The makeshift graves were finally finished and the two skeletons rolled the bodies of my parents inside.

I could've brought them back. I could've revived them. Though insentient, I would still be able to feel their presence near me. However, the lingering guilt every time I looked at their faces was too strong. It was my uncanny ability to always find death that had killed them. Them, and the many others that had been near me in previous lives.

I held the power to bring back the dead, to control it, yet I was still unable to fully control death. Having them around would be too harsh of a reminder. A reminder that the loop of death was inevitable.

I had no time for the frivolities of a proper burial if I was to die again soon, though just leaving them to decay did not sit well with me. With one and a half skeletons (one had only one arm left), I had managed to haul the two bodies back to the Scerriton Estate and let them do the rest of the work.

No more regrets, no more ties to the life I had already lost. My next plan was to retreat to a safe area and live out as long as I can with other undead if possible. I didn't want to return to the death loop. Living as a senseless object was much easier. As for the system, it was probably for the best if I didn't use it.

However, it was then indecision came with the thunder of horse hooves. A cloud of dust on the horizon was rapidly drawing near. Reinforcements. The Chevaliers. It wasn't long before the navy-blue coats of the soldiers came into sight, their bright armor plates and polished boots heavily contrasting the blackened atmosphere of the town.

'And right on time.' I thought, hiding myself and the undead as they galloped through the ruins at a leisurely pace. 'Amazing how reinforcements from a nearby town could arrive later than bandits from the west.'

It had not been even a few minutes after arrival when the riders had already started setting up a small temporary base on one of the unburnt roads. Horses were secured, tents pitched, and I could see soldiers being split into small groups.

A few other soldiers raised two flags in the center of their encampment. The symbols on the colored cloths slowly ascended, fluttering over their tents. One was the majestic sea-blue shield of the Felagan flag I had seen so often as a kid. The other, however, made my blood curdle. A pale crystal-white star set in the stony eye of a golem. The flag of the country of Lwicharvon.

I stared at it in utter confusion and astonishment for a straight minute before my earlier decision made a turn in the opposite direction. The unsatisfied spark of curiosity was aroused. Coupled with the flames of guilt and anger.

And revenge.

Revenge was the biggest thing on my mind. Revenge on the soldiers that invaded a peaceful town. Revenge on the countries that started a needless war. Revenge on humanity's greed that I saw in every world.

But the time was still not right. Several skeletons would do nothing against a large company of men. I had the battle experience of a toddler, not to mention I was still in the body of an 11-year-old, dead or not- And this new system was still weak.

And there was still the question of why the Imperial Chevaliers would be working alongside Lwicharvon. Felagan had been a neutral state for as long as the last pages of history books.

'That's it, I'm heading to Filchin.' I decided. 'Tonnie... He seems useful. He'll give me the information I want. Then... Those responsible for the destruction of Wruens will pay.'

Looking at the skeletons beside me, I thought, 'And these skeletons... The ones that had fallen to them, will aid in their demise.'

Patrol squads had already been deployed around the town by this time, searching for possible survivors. I didn't know what their intentions were for the survivors, but it was no longer my problem.

Two soldiers on patrol were already approaching our direction. One had a white uniform, different from the usual Felagan blue. A Lwich.

I had nothing left to lose with this plan. The worst that could happen was getting killed and moving to another world, which wasn't a big deal anymore at this point.

The clip-clopping sound of hooves drew nearer. Biding my time until the exact moment, I got up from my hiding spot, standing right in plain sight.

"But first, let's rent ourselves some mounts," I said to the skeletons behind me, instantly hearing their reply in the sound of sabres unsheathing.

* * *

The Lieutenant sat alone in deep existential thoughts, whistling lightly while cleaning an expensive model of a flintlock rifle. He was outstretched in an expensive armchair, in a not-so-expensive tent.

It had been a hassle for the troops, lugging the heavy armchair after the horses. But who could say no to the comforts of life, even in war? Probably everyone else except him.

The sound of soldiers running about outside and issuing orders was getting tiring; the tent did a poor job of blocking out the noise. He was still annoyed about having to lead the search team in Wruens, especially when told he'd be working with Lwich soldiers.

"Bah, those Lwich only think highly of themselves, no respect for real culture or taste." He complained, sprinkling some gunpowder onto his hands. His mana slowly spread through them, making sparks dance around. "They'll be the death of us one day. Dunno what the Major was thinking, sending us on a while goose chase with these dim-nits."

The noise increased outside, louder and louder- until he realized they were calling him.

"Lieutenant! Lieutenant!"

"Pipe down, will you?" The Lieutenant groaned and set down his rifle. New cadets always had to disturb his peace. "What is it this time?!"

"We've found someone!"

"A survivor? Just finish him off or whatever... the captain told us not to leave any tattletales around."

"Sir, he says he's from another town!"

"And you believed that, you dingbat?"

"But sir, he claims he's from one of those outlaw syndicates with a high bounty on them: the Sable Skulls!"

"Then why didn't you say so? Get the hell in here before someone else hears about that bounty! And bring the guy!"

The Lieutenant sat down his rifle with a sigh and turned around in his armchair. Two soldiers entered the tent, dragging in a wounded bandit after them. The Lieutenant instantly disliked the look on his face at first sight, but he wasn't going to let the opportunity of claiming a bounty and getting a possible promotion slip.

"Nice work." He nodded, admiring the injuries on the robber. Several shallow cuts on the shoulder and a bullet wound were visible.

"He was like this when we found him, sir." The two soldiers shuffled their feet uneasily before pushing the quivering bandit forward.

"M-my lord!" The bandit immediately knelt down "T-thank you for saving me from those demons! I swear I'll pledge allegiance to you forever!"

"That's nice." The Lieutenant mumbled, looking unimpressed. "A Sable Skull member, eh? What's your name, sonny?"

"Y-yorstaf. Yorstaf Isegaun. I swear I'm not like the other members, sir!" Yorstaf begged fervently with puppy-dog-eyes. "I-I've changed my ways! I'm a gentle person, I would never do anything bad!"

That's what they all say, the Lieutenant thought. But a compliant liar was better than a none. Furthermore, he looked downright ugly with puppy-dog-eyes. "Alright then, so what's a filthy bandit like you doing here?"

"I-I was forced! Our boss told us to rob the corpses here, and bring the loot back to him. I didn't want to do it, but I had to!" Yorstaf sniffled dramatically with tears in his eyes. "H-he especially wanted us to find some sort of special amulet here."

There was a bang as the Lieutenant hit the table and the gunpowder inside his fist ignited. "Find WHAT?!"

"I-I-I don't k-know, my lord-" Yorstaf said, flinching at the Lieutenant's voice. "A-an amulet, that's what the boss said. He thinks i-it has special abilities."

The Lieutenant put his head in his hands. 'An information leak.' He thought, looking distressed. 'The board's going to demote me even further. I can't let them know about this. But how? How did the Sable Skulls get hold of this information? Not even the Lwich should know about this operation...'

"You said 'us'." The Lieutenant noted after a brief silence. "You weren't alone? What happened to them?"

"I-it was the grim reapers." Yorstaf shivered, turning pale. "There are skeletons from hell roaming the place. They butchered my friends! They would've come back to kill me if you guys hadn't saved me..."

"Skeletons? Impossible." One of the two soldiers snickered. "Dreadspawn can't have appeared yet."

"Yeah, it's only been a day or more." The other agreed. "And grim reapers don't exist, idiot."

The Lieutenant sighed with an exasperated look on his face. "Skeletons or not, keep an eye out for any other bandits and dreadspawn alike. And argue before me one more time and I'll have your eyes out."

"Yes sir." The soldiers chimed in unison.

"My poor friends..." Yorstaf sobbed, though not mentioning the valuables he had snatched from his 'friends' bodies.

"Get some healers to see to him." The Lieutenant said, turning back around in his armchair.

"We don't have any healers with us, sir."

"Mana specialists then."

"We dismissed all of them to make space to bring the armchair, sir."

"Ugh, can you not think for yourselves?" The Lieutenant put a hand over his face in exasperation. "Get him to the nearest town's healer and detain him there! I'll interrogate him later. And send a rider to the capital for more reinforcements immediately. There should be two horses out with the patrol squads that are saddled already."

A small platoon wouldn't be enough to defend Wruens if there were others with the same objective. However, he also couldn't let the higher ranks find out that information had been leaked. This day couldn't get any worse, he thought.

"Sir! The Lwich officer in Squad 8 is dead!" A soldier panted, rushing into the tent.

"HE WHAT?!" The Lieutenant bellowed, turning around so hard one of the armrests broke off. The soldiers were thankful the gunpowder was stored at the other end of the camp or the Lieutenant would've set them off. "Argh- Damnit. Cheap chairs... How the hell is someone dead already?"

"His partner says they were ambushed by undead dreadspawn sir. Apparently, the dreadspawn took the horses as well."

"It was surely those grim reapers! I just know it!" Yorstaf declared in the middle.

'More points toward demotion!' The Lieutenant wanted to rip apart the rest of his armchair in desperation. 'At this rate, I'll be a Caporal Fourrier or lower by the end of the month!'

No one was going to believe the tale of dreadspawn appearing. What was more, the other person in Squad 8 was one of the most patriotic officers of the platoon, the worst person to have been with a Lwich. Since tensions between the two sides of soldiers were already high, the death of a Lwich officer was going to complicate things even more.

'LET ME RETIRE ALREADY, GODAMNIT' cursed the Lieutenant's internal screaming.

To further dampen his mood and kick him into the mud, there was no longer any trace of his expensive rifle after everyone had left. The bandit had somehow nabbed it during all the commotion.

* * *