“You can call me Bones. What else can you Identify about me?” Bones’ expression quickly switched from initial wariness to interest. The Identify skill has been Bones’ lowest level skill, a thorn in his side he had trouble leveling since ever.

"How about we shift our discussion to a more private setting?" Hugo suggested as he strolled towards the tavern doors. Before entering, he turned to Bones and inquired, "Care to join me inside?" Bones quickly followed, hoping to prevent Hugo from facing the same fate with the barkeeper as himself. However, the scenario he expected didn't unfold. As Bones entered the hushed tavern, he noticed everyone averting their eyes, refusing to glance his way. No, he swiftly realized, it wasn't him everyone avoided looking at, but Hugo. And the skeleton himself approached the only figure in the tavern, meeting them eye to eye, so to speak.

“Al’em Vrilmoz, you shouldn’t be turning away potential customers - it’s bad for business!” Hugo advised. Barkeep Al’em excused himself, placing blame on Bones. “We don’t take kindly to the likes of them here. No meat, just bones, doesn’t drink and doesn’t eat! And no currency to pay for the services rendered!”

Bones observed the exchange with a mix of confusion and amusement. Hugo's charisma and influence over the undead community were apparent. Assuring Al’em that the services would be paid in full, Hugo casually instructed to put it on his tab. Although Al’em wasn’t pleased with the arrangement, he kept his complaints to himself.

“Come.” Hugo beckoned and led Bones to the taken table in the corner. Two undead patrons stood up, offering their seats without as much as a fuss.

Once seated, Bones' head darted around, absorbing the ambiance of the dimly lit tavern. Hugo allowed Bones a moment to take it all in while waiting for the drink he had ordered. The patrons of the establishment were mostly zombies, their vacant eyes staring ahead, with a small number of unrecognizable creatures scattered among them. Strangely, not a single skeleton was present, except for the two seated at their secluded table.

“Not a single skeleton besides the two of us,” Bones commented, breaking the silence with his raspy voice. Hugo acknowledged the observation and explained that the tavern served a peculiar blend of beverage—a remedy for the soul, not suitable for most undead. The food, tailored to satisfy carrion eaters, was evident from the rotting dishes on nearby tables. A zombie waiter shuffled over, bringing a cocktail of black-colored liquid meshed in a symphony of every dark palette known, presented in a V-shaped glass.

“A remedy for the soul?” Bones inquired, inspecting the intriguing concoction presented before him. Hugo nodded, and Bones mused, “I thought the drink wasn’t suited for our kind.”

“Not suited for most of our kind!” Hugo corrected with a cryptic smile, then added, “Me and you, we’re not like the most.” After a moment of silence, Hugo initiated the conversation, “I will do my best to answer any question you have if I can and to the best of my ability. In return, I’d like you to tell me a story.”

“A story? What kind of story?” Bones questioned, expressing a mixture of curiosity and wariness.

“Your story, Bones. What events in your life led you to acquire titles such as Old Soul, You Got Soul, and Millennial?” Hugo’s voice carried a certain weight, a resonance that echoed through the tavern, drawing the attention of the indifferent patrons.

“You saw that too…” Bones muttered, a trace of vulnerability creeping into his tone.

“I did, and I’d like to apologize again. It became a force of habit to Identify everything, anywhere. If you don’t mind, I’d like to record our conversation in the artifact, the monocle on my left eye,” Hugo explained, gesturing to the ornate monocle perched on his skeletal features.

“The artifact?” Bones inquired, his empty eye sockets narrowing in curiosity.

“A magical tool, if you’d prefer. It allows me to store large quantities of data, even conversations, I can then easily access at my leisure. It is a huge help when conducting exper…research,” Hugo replied with a sly grin, a faint chuckle escaping him.

“No need to apologize. Your...research,” Bones repeated, a touch of skepticism in his tone. “Is it common for the undead to use such tools?”

“Not really. I’ve always been fascinated by the combination of magic and technology. The monocle is one of my many creations,” Hugo explained, tapping the monocle lightly. “Efficiency, my friend, is key in both magic and technology.”

“I guess it makes sense, especially for someone who’s been around for a while,” Bones mused, considering the blend of magic and technology before changing the topic. “So, about my story…”

“Ah, your story,” Hugo nodded, settling into his seat as he gestured for Bones to continue. “I’m all ears, my undead friend.”

Bones recounted his story in as much detail as he could remember, and Hugo attentively listened, occasionally gasping and nodding. When Bones explained the ritual and how the system infused his soul into the body of the skeleton, Hugo interrupted, offering his opinion on the ritual and what he thought went wrong. Apart from using high mana crystals containing huge amounts of pure mana, he added that the ritual would still fail even if his body didn’t explode.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Bones asked him to elaborate, and Hugo explained that he was supposed to transfer his soul into a proper container, but that container couldn’t be a vessel he had prepared. He needed a core to hold his soul, something that every being had since the creation of the system. In fact, he added, if the events had happened just a little bit differently, if he hadn’t caused a tear in space, his soul would have dissipated after finding nothing to attach itself to. It was sheer luck that what happened, happened.

Bones continued, recounting events in Hagos, his profession, golems, and then his departure from The Wezar Kingdom, detailing his encounter with Silva. Hugo expressed surprise at hearing about a figure like Silva, further explaining that humans aren’t usually that proficient in soul magic. He acknowledged that even if Silva's motives were questionable, what he accomplished was an impressive feat. Hugo emphasized that, ultimately, a soul cannot coexist within an incompatible body unless it's an undead, which was an entirely different matter.

As Bones finished talking, Hugo shared that he could answer some of his questions, provide insights, and offer advice.

“Now, what would you like to know first?”

“I’m not even sure where to begin. I have so many questions regarding the system, skills, classes, the undead race…you! What happened just moments ago? Who is he? What is he?”

“The barkeep? Right, hm…,” Hugo twirled his mustache thoughtfully. “The barkeep is an abomination, a third tier, as you can tell from his physical appearance. Like every customer in this fine establishment, he is what you’d call an enlightened being, or in his case, an enlightened undead. You also belong in that category, and so does Rob The Zombie, the gatekeeper you met when entering the city. He is also a third tier. As for why they reacted the way they did, it’s because I serve directly under the master of the Necropolis, Vyrus the Plaguemaster. Such a position holds certain advantages and allows me to exercise authority in the name of my master, to an extent.”

Hugo paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle in Bones' mind before he emphasized his next statement. “You need to understand that there is a strict hierarchy among the undead. The strong rule over the weak! You saw the undead outside the city walls, even here in the city, the mindless servants without a single coherent thought - which leads me to factions.”

“There are three factions in the Necropolis. One you’ve heard of, the independent faction composed of enlightened undead, and the other two belong to two masters of the Necropolis, Vyrus and the Skeleton King.”

“Skeleton King? The…Skeleton King?” Bones repeated, taking out the book from his inventory and waving it in front of Hugo. Hugo reached and grabbed the book, then exhaled, feeling nostalgic. “It’s been ages since I’ve last seen this book. It’s a shame it’s incomplete.”

“Incomplete?” Bones questioned, surprised.

“Yes, there’s a second volume that explains in great detail how The Skeleton King came to be, but it was never published.”

“What? How do you know that?”

“Because I wrote it after I came here,” Hugo casually replied, fixing his monocle and taking a sip from the dark cocktail.

“What are you saying…that you’re the author?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I wrote the first book when I was still teaching at the magic institute back in Prusha.”

Bones remained stupefied, then it dawned on him that the undead sitting across from him was far more formidable than he had initially thought, and perhaps the questions he should be asking first should be about Hugo and not himself.

“Perhaps you could tell me more about yourself and about that second volume that was never published.”

“Sure, I’ll share more about myself. It's only fair since you've been so open with me. As for the book, I have it lying somewhere on the bookshelf at home. For now, I can give you a summary, and you can delve into the details later.”

“Where do I begin…I was very ambitious in my past life, much like yourself, but my interest lay in the world around me, not in combat. I loved reading - still do, and I spent most of my life uncovering the secrets behind the system, lost civilizations, and the meaning of it all. I traveled, researched, taught, and in the latest years of my life, became obsessed with death. We all knew the story, how four heroes defeated the Skeleton King and forced him to retreat back into the Netherworld, but I always felt there was more to the story, and I vowed to myself to uncover what that was.”

Hugo sipped on his drink, his gaze fixed on the book in his hands. “Before he was known as the Skeleton King, he was known as Zlogrog, the conqueror. The title fit him perfectly because Zlogrog, one of the otherwise secluded members of the giant race, inspired a small number of tribesmen to follow him, left the tribe, and began his quest for conquest. Even among giants, he stood out with his abnormal physical strength and hidden intellect, allowing him to fight ascendants while being a third tier. He rose to fame quickly, and his name spread far and wide until the alliance was formed. He was outnumbered, overwhelmed, and heavily wounded. Forced to flee, he sought refuge in the only place he was sure no one would follow – through the fissure and into the Nether Realm. That’s the story written in the book, The Chronicles of the Skeleton King, but there is a gap in the timeline, between his retreat and return as an undead. To uncover what happened in-between, I decided to venture into the Nether Realm.”

“Times were very trying for me as I was old by then, pushing eighty. I had nothing to lose but a bit of time left, and I wanted to know. I reached the gates of the Necropolis and was greeted by a creature, not as docile as Rob the Zombie, but a slim, four meters tall figure draped in a veil of darkness. The world around me shifted, and the creature had me in its grasp, looking into my very soul. That’s how I met Vyrus! He found out everything there was to know about me, without using Identify. He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. He stripped me of my mortal coil and installed a new life within me, that of an undead you see before you.”

“Of course, the process isn’t as simple as I made it out to be, but you wouldn’t understand it even if I explained. Now, back to the topic of factions. I mentioned the other two factions belonging to two masters of Necropolis. They’re the undead you saw outside the tavern. The difference between them and the enlightened undead here is that the undead serving the masters aren’t capable of their own thoughts. They’re mere servants with a single purpose: fulfilling their duties as commanded; they constitute the undead army.”

“Why are they like that? Are they summoned minions? That can’t be, can it? I think there are thousands of them in the city alone!” Bones exclaimed, intrigued by the concept of such a massive undead army under a single command.