Once, Orion would’ve said that he was prepared for anything. There was no monster, no beast, no mortal, and no god that could’ve possibly defeated him or caught him off guard.

  Yet, at the words of a pathetic, tiny, sniveling boy, the legendary hero of light was rendered absolutely speechless.

  What does he mean, ‘I don’t think so?’ There is no being in this world, or any other world, who does not know of me. Orion thought to himself, his mind racing with all too many thoughts for his new, undead body.

  “You mean to say that you resurrected me and you don’t even know who I am?”

  The boy in his grip blinked, inching his neck forward, as if he were deaf and attempting to strain his ears, before replying. “Maybe…?”

  “Do you know anything?!” Orion raged, releasing his grip and allowing the boy to fall to the floor unceremoniously. “I died for a reason, so you'd better have a good one for bringing me back, or I swear it, I will have your head!”

  The boy began to yell, frantically waving his arms in front of him. “Hold on! It was that voice! The voice did it! I don’t even know how to use my stupid skill anyway!”

  “Skill?” Orion traced his memory, but it was foggy, perhaps some kind of aftereffect of whatever sorcery had given him life once again. “You mean, you’re a necromancer?”

  The boy nodded his head once. “But I haven’t even succeeded in bringing anything back to life with my skill! This must all be a mistake!”

  “You said you heard a voice. Who?”

  “I don’t know!”

  Orion dug his blade into the ground, causing the young necromancer to jump back several feet. He stroked his armored chin with two fingers, desperately trying to remember his final moments, but it was no use. Somehow, it seemed that his memories had been tampered with, and only fragments remained. No matter, I will just use my skill and escape from the grasp of this pathetic necromancer. After all, he clearly does not possess the strength that the first necromancer, Eltariel, once possessed. Orion thought, channeling his mana.

  However, nothing happened.

  The hero tried again.

  [You are not high enough level to access that skill!]

  “What kind of magic is this!” Orion roared out loud, accessing his profile page, then he narrowed his eyes as he took in the information.

  

  [Profile]

  <>

  Level: 1

  Exp: 0%

  Mana: 200/200

  Race: Skeleton (Tier 1)

  Title: None

  Class: Death Knight (Mastery 1)

  Class Skills:

  

  
• Soul Rend (Passive) (Tier 1)


  
• Locked (Mastery 2)


  
• Locked (Mastery 3)


  
• Locked (Mastery 4)


  
• Locked (Mastery 5)


  

  Skills (5/5):

  

  
• Guard Breaker (Active) (Tier 1) (Necromancer Lvl. 1)


  
• Battle Instinct (Passive) (Tier 1) (Necromancer Lvl. 10)


  
• Sunfire Lance (Active) (Tier 1) (Necromancer Lvl. 15)


  
• Aegis of the Legion (Passive) (Tier 1) (Necromancer Lvl. 20)


  
• Celestial Step (Active) (Tier 1) (Necromancer Lvl. 30)


  

  Pinnacle Skill (1/1):

  

  
• Primordial Authority (Active) (Tier 1) (Necromancer Lvl. 100)


  

  I’ve been set back to level one?! At the very least, it seems I have retained my base skills and pinnacle skill from when I was still alive, but I can’t even access any of them until this pathetic boy reaches the requisite levels, either!

  “A skeleton… and I’ve been given a different class than the one I once held as a mortal,” Orion contemplated aloud, masking his rage.

  “A skeleton?” The boy questioned, looking around as if a monster was slowly sneaking up on him.

  Without answering, Orion lifted his helmet, showcasing what was undoubtedly a stark white skull with two, flaming blue eye sockets. The boy physically recoiled, prompting Orion to re-equip his helmet. He inspected the rest of his equipment, and it seemed even the special effects of his armor and weapon were sealed by whatever sorcery the boy had managed to cast upon him. Even the base stats were drastically limited, offering little more than a common set of gear would have given him.

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  The boy’s eyes glimmered with realization. “Hold on, does this mean… you're my summon?”

  “‘Summon’ is a strong word, boy, considering I could break these shackles at any moment,” Orion boasted, even though he himself wondered if those words were true. “Perhaps if I kill you…”

  Orion moved quickly, gripping his blade and swinging it with deadly force through the air between him and the boy. But at the last second, his blade came to a complete stop, halted by some invisible force.

  [You may not harm your master!]

  “Interesting,” Orion commented casually.

  The boy flinched, nearly falling to the ground, then his face contorted into rage. “You tried to kill me!”

  Orion shrugged, turning to observe his new environment. “How long has it been?”

  “Why are you ignoring the fact that you tried to kill me?!” The boy seethed.

  Orion continued, ignoring the necromancer’s sentiment. “How long has it been since I defeated the demon Tarmak?”

  “T-Tarmak?” The boy began, stumbling fearfully over the name as his anger began to transform into unease. “That’s the King of Hell from three hundred years ago, right? Everyone knows it was the Seven Lords who defeated–”

  “The Seven Lords?!” Orion roared, voice dripping with vitriol. “I should’ve known those bastards would’ve spun my death in their favor!” He paused, contemplating what the boy had said. “Three hundred years, you say? Well, all things considered, that is not much time at all.”

  “If you say so…” the young necromancer mumbled. “So you’re saying that you died three hundred years ago? And you killed the King of Hell? Why would the Seven Lords lie about something like that?”

  “Because they’re pathetic.”

  The boy withered at the statement, nervously looking to the ceiling, as if one of the Seven gods would smite the pair where they stood. “I wouldn’t talk like that if I were you.”

  “You aren’t.”

  “Well, yes, but–”

  “Boy,” Orion interrupted, sheathing his sword along his back and slowly beginning to make his way to the wooden door. “If you wish to live, I suggest you start talking much less.”

  “It’s not like you can kill me or anything,” the boy replied without missing a beat. “Seems like the whole necromancer thing forbids it.”

  Orion turned, eyeing the boy with a menacing glare. The boy shrank backward, as if folding in on himself. Satisfied, Orion turned back around. “You misunderstand, boy. You are not my master.”

  “My name isn’t ‘boy’.”

  “Oh, is that so?” Orion challenged, still not bothering to turn and face his new master. “Prove it.”

  With that, Orion ripped the wooden door off its hinges, causing splinters of wood to fly out in every direction and revealing the orc still standing behind it.

  “Are-Are you crazy?! You’re gonna get me killed!” The boy protested.

  “I’m counting on it,” Orion shrugged.

  “Well… well, if I die, you probably die too!”

  Orion grinned, although he felt odd, considering he no longer had skin or lips to showcase the emotion. “I’m counting on that as well.”

  The boy’s eyes widened in shock as the orc slowly stepped into the room. At first, the monster attempted to attack the skeleton warrior beside him, but the blade bounced harmlessly off of Orion’s armor. The warrior scoffed, then grabbed the orc and tossed it haphazardly across the room. It seemed that, despite having his skills and abilities sealed behind the mysterious sorcery, he still retained a great deal of physical strength.

  The orc slowly stumbled to its feet, grabbing its sword from where it fell just off to the side, and narrowed its gaze on the boy.

  “I hope you at least serve to entertain me before you die, boy,” Orion laughed, plopping down onto the dungeon floor without a care in the world.

  “Some hero you are!” The boy retorted, slowly backing away from the orc. “You're just gonna sit back and watch me die?!”

  Orion bit back with a threatening growl. “If you were not already mere moments from death, I would have your tongue, insolent child.”

  The orc swung.

  Surprisingly enough, the young necromancer barely managed to dodge out of the way, stepping backward and narrowly avoiding the attack.

  “I did it!” The boy exclaimed.

  “You haven’t done anything yet,” Orion responded.

  The orc snarled, then swung again; this time, the blade barely managed to scrape the boy’s elbow, causing him to hiss in pain. Blood splattered onto the stone floor of the dungeon, painting the already dried blood with a fresh new coat.

  But something changed. The boy didn’t cower in fear, as Orion had expected. He gritted his teeth, turning his dagger backward in his hand, and dropped down into what could’ve been described as a fighting stance. At least, if you had never seen a fight before.

  “Oh, so he has some guts after all,” Orion taunted.

  “You haven’t seen anything yet,” the boy scoffed, his voice low. “I’m no quitter.”

  “Hmph,” Orion grunted. He leaned forward, eyeing the small boy. A child, no less. But the boy intrigued him, and Orion couldn’t quite place a finger on why. “Show me something, boy.”

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