The coffin still trembled.
Cracks spidered across its ancient, decayed surface, glowing faintly with pulsing, blood-red runes. The very air thickened around it, pressing down like invisible chains. The Blackroot trees stood silent — as if the entire forest was holding its breath.
Aarav couldn't move.
Not from fear alone — but from something deeper. A presence. Cold, vast, eternal.
It felt like standing before the ocean for the first time and realizing it could swallow you whole without even noticing.
Then—
CRACK.
A skeletal hand burst forth from the sealed grave, its long fingers wrapped in rusted iron bands, bones etched with black runes. The hand clawed at the forest floor, dragging up dirt, rot, and forgotten curses.
[ALERT: Entity not bound to system. Attempting to assess… FAILURE]
The system's voice stuttered. For the first time, it didn't sound like an all-knowing guide — it sounded afraid.
Aarav staggered backward, breath shallow.
But before he could react further, a figure stepped protectively in front of him — Ghrol, his loyal skeleton warrior.
Ghrol let out a deep, primal growl, like a beast cornered by something far beyond its strength. His posture widened, sword drawn, gaze fixed.
The forest was silent. No birds. No insects. Even the wind held its breath.
Another pull.
A shoulder rose from the coffin. Then a ribcage, wrapped in decaying, tattered robes — robes woven with cursed runes that shimmered like dying stars. Half-sealed, the figure towered even as it crouched.
And then…
Its skull tilted.
Two glowing red lights flared in its hollow eyes. It looked directly at Aarav.
Aarav's knees buckled under the gaze.
Not just strength.
History.
Centuries screamed from behind that stare.
Suddenly, a voice echoed within his skull — cold and ancient:
"He has awakened… the First of the Boundless."
Aarav gasped.
The voice was gone, but the taste of ashes lingered in his mouth.
Another wrench of bone and cloth — and now the figure stood.
Tall. Regal. Bound in iron. Runes floated around him in a slow orbit.
Then, the entity spoke. Its voice didn't echo in the forest.
It echoed in Aarav's soul.
"You bear the soulbrand… and yet… you are unworthy."
Aarav's blood ran cold.
Ghrol growled again, stepping forward, sword raised — but even his bones trembled.
Around them, the Blackroot Forest began to die.
Leaves blackened. Bark cracked. Roots twisted like writhing veins. Even the mist thickened, turning gray and choking.
Aarav stepped back, throat tight. He forced words from his lips:
"…What… are you?"
The entity did not answer.
Instead, it raised a hand.
And Aarav's mind shattered.
A flash of memory — a vision not his own — blazed behind his eyes:
An endless army of undead, their armor dripping with shadow. Mountains crumbled before their march. And at the center, this very figure — crowned in bone, blade raised.
The Deathless King.
Aarav screamed, clutching his head.
The vision vanished. He collapsed to one knee, gasping for breath.
But something inside him burned brighter.
Determination.
He stood.
"Ghrol! Attack!"
Ghrol roared and surged forward — loyal to the end.
The GHROL punch toward the entity — but it never connected.
A wave of necrotic force, effortless and silent, blasted Ghrol backward into a tree. The trunk cracked from the impact. Bones rattled. Ghrol slumped to the ground, twitching.
[ERROR: Insufficient Authority. Target is above permitted class.]
Aarav's eyes widened. His hands began glowing — he tried to summon Necrotic Pulse, anything, any skill…
But the system rejected him. Again and again.
[WARNING: You do not have permission to bind or harm this entity.]
And then—
The Deathless King moved.
Faster than bone should allow. A blur.
Aarav's world tilted. His chest exploded in pain.
He flew.
CRASH!
He slammed into a tree, bark splintering behind him.
His limbs refused to move.
Blood trickled from his mouth.
He saw the entity approaching — not fast, but inevitable.
Cold breath rasped from his lips.
Is this the end?
Will my journey end here?
What about Mother…?
Tears pricked his eyes.
Then — the entity stopped.
It did not strike him down.
Instead, it raised one long bony finger… and carved a glowing sigil into the ground.
A circle of burning white bone.
"Come find me when death no longer fears you," the entity said, voice like thunder buried in earth. "Survive the Grave Trial… and I shall listen."
The fog swallowed it. One blink — and it was gone.
Aarav lay there, gasping, heart pounding in his ears.
Then the system returned.
[New Quest Received: Grave Trial Activated]
Objective: Enter the Trial Gate beneath the Forgotten Grave
Condition: Survive three waves of cursed dead
Time Limit: 72 Hours
Reward: Class Evolution Opportunity
Aarav's hand trembled.
Class evolution…?
Even so, he could barely move.
"Host, your left leg is dislocated. Do you wish to initiate emergency healing?"
Aarav gritted his teeth and growled, "Of course I do! What kind of question is that?!"
"Understood."
A warm light pulsed around his leg. Pain flared — but then it was gone.
He pushed himself up, groaning. His whole body screamed.
And then—
A shadow loomed beside him.
Ghrol.
Battered. Cracked. But standing.
His arm extended, offering to help.
Aarav took it.
Their hands — bone and flesh — clasped in silence.
He looked up into his undead's hollow sockets.
"…Thank you."
They turned and walked out of the forest, step by step.
As they passed the sigil, it flickered — not in warning… but in recognition.
Scene Shift: Veluna's Awakening
Far from the grave, inside the quiet cottage — Veluna froze.
She had been pouring water into a cup when a violent chill shuddered through her spine.
The cup shattered on the floor.
She looked up, hand trembling.
A shadow passed behind her — brief, formless.
But familiar.
"No…"
Her voice was a whisper. A memory.
Not again.
She walked slowly to the window.
Outside, the trees swayed, but something in the wind had changed.
"Don't take my son too," she said — to no one, and to someone.
Her hand pressed to her chest.
A faint glow pulsed beneath her skin, then vanished.
Back to Aarav: At the Forest's Edge
Aarav limped beside Ghrol, hand still on his shoulder.
They stepped beyond the trees, back into the light of the clearing.
A breeze stirred the grass. Birds began to return. Life resumed — cautiously.
But the taste of death lingered.
Aarav exhaled, eyes hard.
I was just a scared boy a week ago.
Now… something older than time knows my name.
He turned toward the village.
The Grave Trial had begun.
And somewhere far below the roots of the world, something ancient — without face, without heart — smiled.