A fragment of my soul rushed forwards to the dragon. It was as if time was slowing down as I watched it close the distance. A part of me thought about how I should have talked to my companion first, but there was no going back now. A few heartbeats later, my soul impacted the middle of the constellation, and a shock wave of light forced back all the other stars. The constellation lit up for a moment before it started to descend.

In the center of the constellation, a pure white flame flickered into existence before it plummeted like a comet towards my soul. My heartbeat heavily in my chest as I watched it fall. I wracked my brain for what could happen, but I came up dry. I closed my eyes as I waited for the inevitable result of the flame to touch my soul.

On the seventh heartbeat, a wave of power rushed over me. It was a feeling of freedom and overwhelming power. The fibers of my being cracked and stretch to accommodate the influx of power. Unlike my soul fracturing, this didn't hurt all that much. It just felt like my soul was just stretching to accommodate an additional force. Maybe it did hurt, but I've just grown used to the pain at this point, so I just failed to notice.

I rolled my neck and cracked my fingers, and opened my eyes. A heat rushed across my chest like I just took a shot of vodka, and I just let it simmer there for a moment. The fire spread to my limbs, and I felt them absorb some of the excess energy. I opened my eyes and glanced at my soul and saw that the white flame was just circling it like a planet in orbit. I glanced at my hands and saw that nothing really changed. Just the same hands, albeit slightly more muscular than before. I glanced at my medium and clenched it into a fist. At first, it was weird to look at. It tickled the back of my mind like something was wrong with me. But now, I hardly even realize it was there most days.

I glanced at my menu and gestured quickly for the notifications that arrived. It was time to see what changed.

You have chosen the constellation of the dragon.

Dragons are powerful creatures, seldom seen. Intelligent, fierce, and protective over their own. Some say that the dragon represents royalty, and strength, while others say they only represent destruction and death. Will you walk the same path or carve your own?

You have been granted a fragment of a dragon's soul fortifying your own. Because of this, soul-based dragon skills have been added to your overall tree. You can now change a single pre-created soul template into a dragon weapon.

Draconic Will I: Within your soul is the resolve of dragons. You get a flat increase of will and increased soul regeneration.

+2 will

-Slightly increased soul regeneration.

Draconic Strength I: Due to the presence of a nescient Ki core, you have received a minute portion of a dragon's strength.

+2 Strength

To advance further down the dragon's path, you need to further cultivate the dragon's flame.

Would you like to convert one of your soul templates?

My eyes skimmed across the notification, and my mouth dropped. I had no idea that this choice would be so strong, nor did I have any idea why I got it, but I wasn't going to argue it. Sadly, however, the excitement quickly faded as the anxiety crept in. It would only increase my workload, and I wasn't sure how to feel about that just yet. I selected the template option and then my soul claws. It was the only one that I had so far, so I might as well get it changed. I confirmed the choice and dismissed my screen. I glanced at my soul outline one last time and thought over what I was doing with myself.

It felt like I was doing a little of everything, and I wasn't sure if that was a good thing. I just didn't want to over-specialize just yet, since I didn't know what this world offered with the classes. I dismissed the notifications and decided that I was done for now; I had to think about everything real quick and get with my companion on my choices to figure out how to proceed.

I cut the skill, and my vision shifted back to the real world, and my eyes meandered over to the clock. I spent a few hours in meditation, and the sun was well on its journey across the sky. Bundles of stormy grey clouds were slowly gathering, and the wind was picking up. I pulled my legs up to my chest and stared out across the lake, and took a deep breath. I'll test out everything I got later. Right now, I just wanted some time to myself.

My heartfelt heavy with homesickness, and I felt burdened with a growing sense of depression. I didn't hate doing any of this. This was probably some of the most fun that I had in a while. But being surrounded by the undead was just lonely. I had Alessia, who seemed the most human of them all, but it still changed nothing. Most of them don't talk, and I don't want to drag Kharon into needless conversation since he has become busier lately. I hugged my legs tighter to my chest and watched as the surface of the lake rippled from the wind.

As I watched the water ripple, a memory of my father came to mind. Back when I was younger, we would go out on family trips, and we once went to a national park, the name of which was long forgotten. But the memory of him telling me how fast wind had to be to create waves on a lake's surface, and a few other things that went over my head as a child. Such a strange little thing to remember, but one that made me smile nonetheless. Even though they were hard on me, I miss them.

I sat in the fading sun for some time, thinking of my life and future, before I decided I wanted to head back to my office. I wanted to take a nap and get reinforcements ready for the ceremony tomorrow. Which sent a small cluster of daggers through my heart. Funerals were never my strong suit, and I haven't even decided on a eulogy for them yet. I suppose I should write something before I go to sleep. It would be the right thing to do for them after all. But I had no idea what would fit them. I mean, they were undead, and many of them were here since the start. It hurt watching them die, but it more so settled in after the fact, just how bad it hurt.

But what does death mean to an undead? They have to die once to get here, so does dying once more mean something more? I pondered the thought for a moment, and a light bulb went off in my head. I should talk to Alessia. She would know more about the matter since she is a spirit. Speaking of which, where was she? It wasn't like her to vanish for long periods. In fact, a part of me felt that staying out of her sight for too long was not something she would allow. She was an odd one. But it was something I was coming to appreciate more and more every day. I stood up, made a gesture to open my map, and quickly panned over towards my office. It was time to head back and get ready for the ceremony. However, just before I teleported out, I felt the familiar grip of an icy hand on my shoulder, and a slight grin crossed my face. Ah, there she is. I knew she wouldn't be far.

My world twisted as my office came into view. Thankfully through constant use, the resulting nausea was weakening. It made me glad that my body is getting used to everything. I cleared my throat and walked over to my desk, grabbing my bag on the way. I wanted to knock out this eulogy and plan out the reinforcement plan for tomorrow. Alessia was as usual quiet as a ghost and stood close by.

"So, where did you go? I didn't see you when I woke up." I asked her as I sat down and pulled out my pen and notebook. I grabbed another set and passed it back to her since she still had trouble speaking. As she wrote, I flipped open to a new page and quickly tried to work out a plan for tomorrow. I needed to reinforce the stronghold, but I also didn't want them to be overly strong. For the time being, I think I would leave out brutes; maybe for the next zone, they would make an appearance. But for now, I was happy with what I had. I also had to do a slight rework on the ranking system a bit. I may shift the warrant officers outside the ranking system and create mobs to better lead the other undead.

As I was working on the new ideas, Alessia placed my other notebook on the corner of the desk. I set my pen down and glanced over at it.

I had to take care of some training with the honor guard. Forgive me for not informing you of my departure. I wished not to wake you.

"It's alright. I was just curious. I usually see you when I first wake up." Alessia didn't pick up the notebook immediately. She appeared in the corner of my eye and walked to the front of my desk. Once she was settled in, she reached out and grabbed her writing utensils and notebook, cause, let's be honest, they are pretty much hers now, and wrote once more.

I tapped the pen on the edge of the desk a few times as I thought about my choices. I think I would roll with centurions, leading the undead. It was quick, easy, and would allow me a bit more flexibility. That way, the warrant officers could move about more freely and shift between detachments as needed. I opened up my creation menu, brought up my templates, quickly designed out the rank patch for them, the chevrons, and added another, with a single gold bar underneath them. I saved the template and glanced down at her notebook.

Did you miss me, Lady Asteria?

I felt my eyebrow raise as I stared at her and tried to judge her. Her face was as still as stone and betrayed nothing. I knew what she wanted me to say, but I wasn't going to give in that easily. "Something like that." Her eye twitched, barely, but it was there, which meant I hit a nerve. But, I didn't have time to play her game; I had questions to ask. "Anyway, all jokes aside, I have a question. What does death mean to the undead?"

She tilted her head, thoroughly distracted, and quickly scribbled something out.

It doesn't really mean all that much to us. Maybe for those who live, it's a reason to mourn, but it's a reason to rejoice for us. We finally get to rest once more, though I suppose there is room for mourning as well if you really want to think about it.

I quickly nodded and glanced down at my paper as I slowly but surely started to write what felt right. "Thank you, Alessia. I appreciate the help.