[31:15:40]

  [Name] Blackwood

  [Race] Human (Basic)

  [Class] The Pugilist (Basic)

  [Level] 24

  [Strength] 22

  [Dexterity]25

  [Endurance] 21

  [Intelligence] 0

  [Charisma] 22

  [Luck] 15

  [Skills] Spelunking 11 - Sneak 16 - Walking 13 - Breathing 13 - Gathering 10 - Grappling 5 - Writing 6 - Hand to Hand 15 - Hunting 14 - Bushcraft 5 - Reading 4 - Running 7 - Cartography 4 - Tracking 10 - Compulsion 15 - Scouting 10 - Footwork 6

  [Abilities]

  Passive: Basic Caver - Soft Steps - Walking Proficiency - Breathing Proficiency - Basic Hunter - Push

  Active: Punch - Step Forward - Guard - Identify - Hand to Hand Mastery

  Buck had made massive gains to his [Skills] while hunting the [Rodents of Totally Normal Size]. Over the past few days, he’d raised his Character Level to 24—just one level away from hitting the max level of the first Echelon. After that, he’d need his Skills to be at least level 25 to continue leveling up. It was a strange feeling. With each new milestone, he’d grown used to racing through the levels, the congratulatory fanfare ringing in his head. A part of him would miss that familiar rush.

  But it didn’t diminish how impressive his gains had been. The Attribute points he’d fed into these lower levels were astounding. There was no way to truly know, but deep down, Buck felt it wasn’t normal. Evander had furiously explained that some Citizens from other Kingdoms often got stuck. He called it a bottleneck—their AIs just wouldn’t provide them with enough skills to level up. In Buck's case, he had been inundated with so many avenues of progress that he couldn’t even max out a single skill.

  And that was all thanks to Bev. She’d been his constant companion through all of this. The AI was more than just a guide; she was a lifeline in the chaos, offering wisdom and insight when he felt lost. Sure, that wisdom was often wrapped in snark, but Buck had come to appreciate her dry humor. The conversations felt like a warm refuge from the madness outside.

  But Buck worried. What would happen as the Kingdom grew? Right now, his life was simple. The cycle of hunting, leveling, and returning to camp to see whatever mischief Evander had gotten into was… rewarding. But what would happen when Buck’s Kingdom expanded? Would that change?

  He pushed the thought aside. Of course, it would change. Look at what had happened in the last few weeks.

  The [Quest] timer loomed like a doomsday clock in his interface. Buck realized he’d been ignoring it on purpose. Almost 20 days had passed. Twenty days of what felt like a glorified camping trip with his friends—albeit one filled with daily battles against mutated beasts that wouldn’t hesitate to rip out his throat for their next meal.

  The level cap of the first Echelon was a sign, though. A sign that Buck needed to move on. He needed to travel to the eastern border and see what this “opposing force” really was. With each hunt, he’d hoped to kill a beast that would count towards his [Quest], but luck hadn’t been on his side.

  As Buck stepped back into camp, an unsettling silence hung in the air, broken only by faint shuffling sounds creeping from the shadows. His heart sank when he reached the clearing.

  Evander stood like a king amidst a grotesque spectacle—an army of reanimated rats, their once-dead bodies now animated by necromantic magic. The goo that had coated them in life glistened in the moonlight, merging with the eerie glow of their hollow eyes. Evander, a twisted grin spreading across his face, had harnessed the chaos Buck had wrought, turning his past victories into a nightmarish horde.

  “Blackwood!” Evander shouted from the middle of the horde, “You’ve returned! I thank you for providing me with such… ample materials to practice my art.”

  Buck was stunned into silence. He only spoke after one of the rodents rubbed against his leg like a cat seeking its master's attention. “I…I see your [Animate] spell has increased in strength?”

  Evander started walking towards Buck, the rat horde parting like a sea before him “This is a monumental step, Buck. Imagine my surprise when I found they had not one, but two [Skills]. Two! At this level, that is truly extraordinary. Here, see for yourself.”

  The hamster waved a tiny paw, and one of the reanimated rats scuttled forward, its movements unnaturally fluid.

  [You have been Gifted, Zombie Rodent, Level 1]

  [Zombie Rodent]

  Basic Minion

  -Level 5-

  Returned from the dead, these beautiful, slimy creatures had only one desire. To serve. They will follow you to the ends of the earth. Think of them as an especially clingy girlfriend. They will always be there for you, always. Always.

  Skills: Scouting - Sneak

  Abilities: Bite

  The rodent in front of him looked up at him expectantly, its beady little eyes boring into the very depths of his soul. If you looked past the disgusting bile coating its body, the orange teeth dripping with saliva, and the long, stringy rat tail, it was…well, still horrifying. Buck couldn’t even lie to himself about how revolting they were.

  “I recommend taking a few of them out with you on your hunts,” Evander said, his voice dripping with the kind of smug satisfaction only a hamster necromancer could muster. “Commanding a group of creatures is Minion 101. Or, as Bev so eloquently puts it, Compulsion 101. Start with five. That should suffice.”

  The little hamster turned and began to shuffle back toward the Apothecary, his tiny paws clasped behind his back. Buck felt like he was swimming through a sea of rats as he followed, the creatures parting around him like a living, squelching tide.

  “Evander, hold up,” Buck called out, sidestepping a particularly gooey rat. “I wanted to apologize.”

  Evander paused, gazing back with a confused expression. “Apologize? For what, precisely?”

  “For issuing the Proclamation, of course,” Buck said, scratching the back of his neck. “ I might’ve overreacted.”

  Evander’s familiar cackle filled the air. “Oh, Blackwood. Do you truly believe I would harbor resentment over such a trivial matter? This is the Cracked Kingdoms. The Root thrives on the strife of its Citizens. If I were incapable of forgiveness, I would be unable to thrive.”

  Buck let out a sigh of relief, though he couldn’t help but feel Evander had come around a bit too quickly. Taking a step closer, Buck said, “I can remove the Proclamation if you want. Your help over these past weeks has been…well, kinda invaluable”

  That gave the little hamster pause. Buck watched as a flicker of surprise crossed Evander’s face, followed by something that almost looked like gratitude. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by his usual air of superiority.

  “No,” Evander said, his voice firm. “It is imperative that I remember my place. You are the Ruler of this Kingdom, and I am but a humble servant of your grand vision.”He paused, then added, “I must learn to adapt to this new reality. Going forward, I will provide a list of things I require to further my…experiments. You can thank Citizen William Wight for this as well. He is a…charismatic cowboy. Now, I must complete my research of this [Embryonic Goo]. Leave me.”

  With that, Evander passed through the doors of his Apothecary, the sound of the stone doors scraping against stone marking the end of the conversation.

  Buck smiled. The little bugger had an attitude, but in the end, they were both struggling to come to terms with their new reality. William was clearly right—something had happened to Evander to force him to restart his journey in the Cracked Kingdoms. Maybe he’d even been the Ruler of his previous Kingdom. That would explain why the Proclamation had caused such a kerfuffle. Buck couldn’t know for sure. It would take time to be able to pull all the little details of Evander’s past out of him.

  A familiar voice broke through Buck’s thoughts. “That there hamster’s got more layers than an onion, but he ain’t half bad once you peel ‘em back.”

  Buck turned to see William floating nearby, his ghostly form shimmering in the twilight. “You say I got weird sayings,” Buck said, grinning. “You spoke to him?”

  “Sure did,” William replied, tipping his hat. “Though I gotta say, I ain’t too keen on your choice of hunting partners.” He gestured to the swarm of rats still milling around Buck’s feet.

  “Hey, don’t look at me,” Buck said, holding up his hands. “I didn’t know he wasn’t gonna wash them first. I mean, come on, Evander. A little hygiene goes a long way.”

  William chuckled, the sound warm and gravelly. “Well, I reckon he’s got his reasons. Still, I’d keep an eye on ‘em. Don’t need no zombie rats sneakin’ into my bedroll.”

  “Yeah, no kidding,” Buck said, glancing down at the slimy horde. “Though I guess I can’t complain too much. He’s the one doing all the hard work of animating these little nightmares.”

  The thought of cleaning the horde of rats in front of them didn’t exactly fill Buck with joy, but it was better than dragging them all to the river one by one. Plus, it might give him a chance to pry more information out of Evander about the whole necromancy thing. He had noticed that as his Charisma increased, it became easier and easier for him to control Mr. Seeker. Would that apply to these rats as well?

  The Corpse Seeker had almost become a third limb. Albeit one that flew around and that he could also see through. With the addition of [Push], he barely even needed to think about it anymore. His commands were nearly instant, taking just a drop of Source to have the Minion weave in and out of branches, maintaining a safe distance while providing him up-to-date information.

  It was why Buck had kept pumping points into Charisma. While Mr. Seeker didn’t have any combat abilities, the extra sight had saved him from receiving some pretty nasty wounds on more than one occasion.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  What if I had more than one? Buck thought, a grin spreading across his face. He could scatter them across the battlefield, giving him a bird’s-eye view of everything. It’d be like having his own personal surveillance network.

  After he cleaned all these rats, though, Buck reminded himself, grimacing at the thought.

  Wandering over to the Nexus, Buck hoped that the Shop had updated enough to provide some kind of cleaning materials. If not, he’d have to drag each and every one of them to the river and back—a task that would take way too much time. But as he placed his hands on the crypt, a new tab opened in his interface.

  It was titled [Minions].

  With a mental push, it opened, and Buck saw a list appear, populated with all the Minions inside the Kingdom. Gods, Buck thought, Evander’s been busy. The hamster had created nearly thirty of the [Zombie Rodents]. This was going to get out of hand fast. Maybe Buck would ask William to make some sort of stable or pen to keep them in. A short wall around their camp, at the least.

  Selecting four more of the little beasts, Buck was delighted to see that, as the Ruler, he could transfer them under his control. As he finalized the decision, his senses were assaulted by a flood of disjointed images. Each rodent specialized in the [Scouting] skill, and like the Seekers, Buck could see through their eyes.

  It was more than a little disorienting. He assumed this was how a fly saw the world—each of their little buggy eyes providing a piece of the puzzle that was sight. Thankfully, with his high Charisma and [Compulsion] skill, it only took a moment to center himself. He was even delighted to see his [Compulsion] skill tick up another point just from the act of putting the rats under his control.

  “You good there, young pup? You're lookin’ mighty green,” William said

  Buck scoffed. “Yeah, this is gonna take some getting used to. I don’t know how Evander does it.”

  As if on cue, the stone doors of the Apothecary slammed open. Evander rushed out, his tiny face twisted in panic. If Buck hadn’t just apologized to him, he would have burst out laughing—the little furrow on the hamster's brow was just the cutest.

  “One of my Seekers was just killed!” Evander exclaimed, his voice shrill with worry.

  “Wait. What?” Buck said, his stomach dropping. “Was it a heron? The coyotes don’t even come that close to camp—”

  Before he could finish, a pulse of pure Source blasted out from between a pair of trees. Buck froze. He hadn’t felt this level of power from any beast he’d fought in the past few weeks. The energy the herons emitted was nothing compared to this.

  Turning, Buck saw a tomahawk soaring through the air toward him and Evander. The weapon was forged from pure, twisting flames, its blade radiating waves of Source. What in the gods' name is that? Buck thought, his mind racing. More importantly, how had he missed this? The energy was like a beacon, buffeting him with its intensity.

  Before he could react, Buck felt a shove from William. The ghost had placed both hands on Buck's chest, pushing with all his might. Buck stumbled back, watching in horror as the flaming tomahawk passed between him and Wiliam. The flames licked at William’s spectral form, illuminating his shocked expression.

  Then, Buck saw it, and his breath caught in his throat.

  The tomahawk struck William, and the ghost collapsed. Buck’s heart raced as he watched William’s ethereal form dim, his intestines spilling forth in a grotesque, ghostly cascade.

  “Billy!” Buck shouted, crawling forward. What could he do? Did the [Basic Healing Potion] work on the undead? Before he could act, another wave of Source rushed towards him. Without thinking, Buck raised his hands and activated [Guard].

  This time, a tomahawk of stone, held together by twisting roots, slammed into him, the force driving him back a full meter, his shield cracking and dissipating from the single blow. It separated him from William’s dying form. He wouldn’t be able to save William until he dealt with his attackers.

  Activating [Gray Mist] and [Step Forward] in tandem, Buck dashed forward, leaving ghostly copies of himself in his wake. The heavy gray mist sank down to the ground, carpeting the area. With a thought, he had his Minions charge in different directions, trying to locate his foe as quickly as possible.

  He didn’t need to wait long.

  From the trunk of a lodgepole pine, a bizarre and fearsome creature emerged. It had the body of a man—tall, muscular, and imposing—but its head was unmistakably that of a rabbit, no, a jackalope. Long, majestic antlers twisted gracefully towards the sky, framing the face of the humanoid rabbit. Its fur was a patchwork of earthly browns and grays, blending seamlessly into the forest behind him. The creature wielded a flaming tomahawk in each hand, the flames dancing wildly and casting flickering shadows across the trees.

  Before Buck could react, the creature flung the two tomahawks towards him. Buck’s mind was clouded, a sheen of pure rage blanketed him. This…thing had disemboweled his friend. Gods, the sound William’s intestines had made as then slipped from his stomach. Buck couldn’t stop himself. He saw red.

  He used [Step Forward] once again to dodge the flames. But he didn’t stop there. Using the momentum of the Ability, Buck flashed past the jackalope, passing through its body with [Gray Mist] still active.

  The gambit worked. Buck felt the life force of his foe flow into him, the energy surging through his body. The amount of energy surprised him. If [Gray Mist] imparted around 5 to 10% of his enemy's attributes, then this foe was far stronger than anything Buck had faced before.

  The energy filled Buck to the very brim, and his Strength and Dexterity skyrocketed. But something was off. The energy didn’t seem to come from the jackalope itself, at least not all of it. It felt like it emanated from somewhere deeper in the forest.

  Before Buck could investigate, the jackalope turned, swinging his tomahawk with the grace of a seasoned warrior. It took all of Buck's speed to duck the flaming blade just in time, the flickering flames grazing the top of his bald head. He could feel the heat singeing his scalp.

  Ok, no more playing around, Buck thought.

  Activating [Punch], he swung his fist forward in a powerful uppercut, landing a deafening blow on his jackalope’s jaw. The creature was flung backward a full two meters, blood running down its rabbit-like face.

  Buck stared in shock. A full-strength [Punch] wasn’t enough to kill it? What kind of Attributes did it have?

  Quickly he activated [Identify].

  Citizen Flint

  Level 17

  Buck was taken aback. This rabbit-human hybrid in front of him was a Citizen? Did that mean some human had been transformed into this monstrosity? And only level 17? How had it been able to survive Buck’s [Punch]? Before he could think more on the subject, the creature spoke.

  “It seems I was mistaken to attack the spirit first,” the jackalope said, its deep, resonant voice causing the leaves on the trees to tremble. “I did not think that the Whisper of Death would be… a human?”

  Ok. What the fuck? Buck thought. The jackalope could talk? And he had called him the Whisper of Death? What was going on?

  “I don’t know who this Whisper of Death guy is,” Buck said, his voice steady despite the chaos in his mind, “but you attacked my friend. I can’t let that go unpunished.”

  To Buck’s surprise, the jackalope laughed—a deep, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down his spine. “You are brave. A fighter. The stories of the Whisper spoke of a coward—one who would rather slaughter beasts than face a true enemy. I am glad the stories were mistaken.”

  With a flash, Citizen Flint hurled his two flaming tomahawks. Buck dodged to the right, but as he did, Flint dashed forward, his speed rivaling Buck’s own. Before Buck could react, Flint had summoned two more blades, swinging them in a deadly arc aimed at decapitating him.

  It took all of Buck’s training to avoid being killed right then and there. At this moment, he thanked Evander for drilling into him the importance of getting a mastery skill. The past days of training had brought his [Hand to Hand] skill up to 16, and without every point of progress, he wouldn't have been able to dodge the attack.

  The fight was a whirlwind of fire, blood, and desperation. Buck’s heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing like a war drum as he dodged flaming tomahawk after flaming tomahawk. The blade grazed his shoulder, searing his skin and filling the air with the acrid stench of burning flesh. Buck gritted his teeth, swallowing a cry of pain. He couldn’t afford to falter—not now.

  Flint was relentless. The jackalope moved with a predator’s grace, his weapons leaving trails of fire in their wake. Every swing was calculated, every step deliberate. Buck’s [Footwork] was the only thing keeping him alive, but he was barely keeping up.

  Buck ducked under a horizontal slash, the flames licking at his scalp. He countered with a [Punch], his fist slamming into Flint’s ribs with a satisfying crunch. The jackalope grunted, stumbling back, but the victory was short-lived. Flint retaliated with a spinning kick, his clawed foot raking across Buck’s chest. Blood welled from the wounds, leaving Buck gasping from the shock.

  “You’re strong,” Flint growled, his eyes filled with bloodlust. “But strength alone won’t save you.”

  “Yeah, well, neither will your bad breath,” Buck shot back, his voice strained as he dodged another tomahawk. The blade embedded itself in a tree behind him, setting the bark ablaze.

  Buck’s body screamed with every movement, his muscles burning from the strain. His vision blurred at the edges, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Flint wasn’t just strong—he was relentless. Every punch Buck landed seemed to barely faze him, while every strike Flint landed left Buck reeling. How could someone 7 Levels lower than him be so godsdamn strong?

  Buck’s mind raced as he fought, He couldn’t keep this up forever. His Source reserves were dwindling, and his body was reaching its limit. He needed to end this—fast.

  A flaming tomahawk whistled past his ear, close enough that he heard the air scream as it was burned. Buck stumbled, his foot catching on a root. He hit the ground hard, the impact driving the air from his lungs. Flint was on him in an instant, his eyes blazing with fury.

  “You fight well, Whisper,” Flint said, raising a tomahawk for the killing blow. “But this ends now.”

  Buck's mind screamed at him to move, but his body was too slow. The tomahawk came down in a fiery arc, and Buck barely managed to roll to the side. The blade struck the ground where his head had been, sending a spray of dirt and embers into the air.

  Buck scrambled to his feet, his chest heaving. His arms felt like lead, his legs trembling with exhaustion. But he couldn’t stop, Not yet.

  Flint lunged again, his movements a blur. Buck activated [Step Forward], narrowly avoiding the attack, but Flint anticipated the move. The jackalope’s free hand shot out, grabbing Buck by the throat and slamming him into a tree.

  Buck’s vision swam as the impact rattled his skull. He could feel Flint’s claws digging into his neck, the pressure cutting off his air. Desperately, Buck activated [Gray Mist], his body dissolving into a swirling cloud just as Flint’s grip tightened.

  The jackalope snarled in frustration as Buck reappeared a few feet away, gasping for breath. His throat burned, and his lungs felt like they were on fire. But he couldn’t stop. Not while Flint was standing.

  Buck unleashed a flurry of blows on the jackalope, each strike met with a counterattack from Flint. It was like a macabre dance of death, the two combatants using every ounce of skill to outmaneuver the other. For every punch Buck landed, he received a shallow slash in return, the flaming blades of the ethereal tomahawks cauterizing his wounds as they struck.

  Minutes later, the two stood breathless, facing each other as pockets of flames began to spread through the undergrowth. Buck could feel the heat growing. If he didn’t do something soon, the entire forest would become a raging inferno.

  “I have not felt this close to death since my Reincarnation, human,” Flint said between deep breaths. “Know your death will be recorded upon my Totem”

  “Totem Smotem,” Buck snapped, wiping blood from his face. “I don’t have time for this. I’ve got a friend to save.”

  Buck was fed up. He’d felt Flint weakening over the course of the fight, but the jackalope’s endurance was staggering. Buck knew that his [Punch] alone wouldn’t be enough to finish this. He’d have to get creative.

  With a mental [Push], Buck commanded his five zombie rodents to leap from the bushes where he’d hidden them during the fight. Flint, assuming the creatures to be powerful beasts, reacted instantly, hurling two tomahawks that bisected the rodents mid-air.

  But Buck was already moving. Activating [Step Forward] and [Gray Mist], he phased through Flint, appearing behind the jackalope. Before Flint could react, Buck wrapped his hand around the back of the jackalope's neck and, with a mental click, activated [Punch].

  The sound of crushing bone was sickening. Buck’s fist closed around Flint’s neck with brutal force, blood spraying as the jackalope’s spine snapped like a twig beneath Buck’s fingers. The creature crumpled to the ground, its flaming tomahawks extinguishing as its life faded.

  Buck stood over its body, breathing heavily. He was covered in blood, his hands trembling as the adrenaline began to fade. Before he could process what had just happened, a notification popped up in his vision.

  [Congratulations! You have received the Murderer Title!]

  [Murderer]

  The way to victory is paved with blood and bone. I mean, you coulda just talked to the guy, but what’s the fun in that? You have killed your first Citizen!

  Reward: +1 Strength

  Buck read the Title in silence. This creature really had been another Citizen. Was it like Evander—a being, thrown into a new Kingdom for the entertainment of the Viewers? Buck stood there, shaking. Jackalope or not, he had killed someone. A living, breathing, sentient being.

  But as he read the Title again, his stomach churned. He hadn’t received the First! Reward. That meant this wasn’t the first Citizen to die in his Kingdom.

  “What was happening out east?” Buck muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

  Without wasting another moment, Buck turned and ran back toward the camp, his heart pounding.

  He had to get to William.