Chapter 122: Found Him
Nick cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure.
"A true adventurer doesn't sweat the small details."
Snap.
The sound of a dry twig breaking echoed through the silent woods. Nick and Bruce stiffened instantly, their gazes snapping toward the source of the noise.
It was a skeleton.
It was the most ordinary, common, fragile-looking Novice Skeleton imaginable. The creature seemed to sense something as well; it stopped in its tracks and tilted its skull toward Nick and Bruce. It stared at them with empty, unblinking sockets.
One human. One Kobold. One skeleton.
The three parties stood about ten paces apart, locked in a bizarre forest standoff. Seeing the target, Nick and Bruce felt their nerves relax slightly. Thank the Spirits it's just a low-tier scrub. It would have been a nightmare to run into the Sovereign or a high-rank mabeast in the middle of the night.
Just as they assumed the skeleton would charge them mindlessly like any other low-level undead, the unexpected happened.
The next second, the skeleton spun around on its bony heels and bolted!
It... it ran away?
The duo exchanged a look, a giant question mark appearing over both their heads.
"Holy sh*t! It can run?!" Nick was the first to react, his voice cracking.
Bruce roared, "That's him! The intelligent skeleton! Don't let him get away!"
Unfortunately, a forest at night is the worst possible arena for a chase. Nick ran with too much desperation, catching his foot in a pit of leaves and face-planting into the dirt. Bruce was more agile, but even he found himself tripped up by gnarled roots.
Meanwhile, that damned skeleton was faster than a rabbit. It navigated the terrain as if the forest were its own backyard, weaving through the thickets until it vanished into the lightless depths.
"Hah... hah..."
Nick leaned against a tree, gasping for air, his face a mess of mud and grass. "Wait a second... since when is... the Sovereign of Evernight... such a track star?!"
Bruce lay flat on the ground, refusing to move a single muscle. "We can't track him in the dark," he wheezed. "What's the move?"
"We sleep! We find him tomorrow!" Nick declared righteously as he dusted off his clothes. "It's too dark now. Even if we find him, we won't catch him. Don't worry, Bruce. A necrotic ruler doesn't grow up overnight."
"It takes decades, maybe centuries for a Lord to rise. One or two days won't make a difference!"
Bruce found the logic sound enough, so he gathered some dry wood and started a fire. "Fine. Get some sleep. I'll take the first watch."
The next day, the two wandered the woods for hours. They encountered plenty of Novice Skeletons, but they were all mindless fodder that charged at anything with a heartbeat. Bruce pulverized them with single swipes of his claws.
As twilight approached, dyeing the sky a bruised orange...
"Nick, I'm starving," Bruce's stomach let out a thunderous growl.
"Hold on, Bruce! A great adventurer never fears an empty stomach!"
Bruce grumbled back, "Do you think he left the forest already?"
Nick froze, then smacked his own forehead. "Brilliant! He ran the moment he saw us yesterday, which means he's cautious. There's no way he'd just sit around waiting for us to find him again!"
The man and dog-man followed the forest trail and managed to exit the woods just as the last of the light failed. In the distance, the silhouette of a settlement emerged, thin plumes of chimney smoke rising into the air.
"Hooray! A village!"
Their spirits lifted. They spent a few coppers at the only tavern in town for a hot meal and secured a cheap room at the inn. That night, they slept the sleep of the just.
However, the next morning, they were jolted awake by a cacophony of shouting.
"Quick! Pack the wagons!"
"Don't dally! If you want to live, move!"
"My wheat! I haven't finished the harvest!"
Nick and Bruce rubbed the sleep from their eyes and stepped outside to find the entire village in a state of frantic upheaval. Villagers were hauling overstuffed bags and herding livestock toward the town exit.
"What's the status? Are bandits raiding?" Nick asked, catching the sleeve of a woman pushing a wheelbarrow.
The woman spared the two strangers a frantic look. "What are you still doing here? Run! An Undead Lord has appeared in the Bone Forest!"
"An Undead Lord?" Nick and Bruce exchanged a sharp glance.
"Yes! He's back in the woods! The Village Chief says he'll be back soon to finish what he started! We're heading for Iron Fortress to seek asylum! Go now, or it's over!"
The woman didn't wait for a reply, scurrying off with her cart. Nick and Bruce stood rooted to the spot.
Suddenly, Nick looked thoughtful. "So, Reinhard's hometown has such a long and storied history..."
Bruce's lip twitched. "Is this really the time for a history lesson?! What are we doing?!"
"We fulfill our mission, of course!" Nick grinned. "If he's back in the woods, he just saved us the trouble of hunting him down! This time, we're going in for the legendary 'Sandwich Pincer Maneuver'! He isn't getting away again!"
Ignoring Bruce's groans of protest, Nick dragged him back toward the Bone Forest.
The woods were unnervingly quiet. Even the insects had gone silent. They crept through the undergrowth, carefully parting a screen of bushes to peer into a clearing.
And then, they saw him.
A squad of seven skeletons was marching in a perfect, disciplined line across the glade. Their movements were synchronized—entirely unlike the wild undead they had faced earlier.
Just then, a "wild" skeleton wobbled into the clearing, trailing behind the squad. The squad stopped. The leader in the center remained still, but the other six spun around instantly and pounced on the newcomer.
Bone swords and shields smashed into the wild skeleton. In a heartbeat, the poor creature was reduced to a pile of spare parts.
Then, the lead skeleton—the one who hadn't moved—stepped forward. He simply raised a bony hand over the wreckage.
The next second, the scattered bones began to squirm as if pulled by invisible threads, clicking back together with mechanical speed. The shattered skeleton stood back up, but now, the Soul Fire in its eyes burned significantly brighter. It took its place at the end of the line, matching the stride and posture of the others perfectly.
Nick frantically rummaged through his Spatial Pouch, desperate for a weapon. He found a few healing potions and the half-empty vial of Holy Water.
He wanted to charge in right then—to go for a "Decapitation Strike" while the target was distracted. But he looked at Bruce's grim expression, then at the disciplined squad and the Monarch who could raise his kin with a wave of a hand.
Nick dropped his voice to a bare whisper. "Bruce... let's wait. We strike when he's alone."
Bruce nodded in silent, grim agreement.
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