The sound around Drake faded the moment he laid eyes upon the monster in front of him. Even as the Skeletal Knight heaved itself up, slamming its foot on the cracked stone floor, he could only hear his quickening heartbeat.

“Snap out of it, runt!”

Startled, but at least in control of his limbs, he glanced back to see the master turned towards him, his arm pressed firmly on the stone door’s center. Somehow the sight of sweat dripping down Roy’s face seemed far more unnatural to him than the writhing mass of bones staring at them. He nodded and shifted his focus back to the undead mini-boss.

Whatever he may have looked like in life, little more than bone and sinew had remained of Zane Stills. The former knight towered a head higher than both Drake and Roy, its two bloodred flames pulsing inside the withered skull’s empty sockets. In spite of its age, the Skeleton’s rust-eaten plate armor still held firmly, leaving little in terms of exploitable weaknesses. And its long bastard sword, paired with an old heater shield, weighed enough for it to be a problem, regardless of its condition.

‘Great… A level 10 mini-boss. At least undead monsters move slow enough to–’

He leaped back, narrowly evading the sideways slash aimed at his neck. He felt a few strands of his hair stick to the cold beads of sweat on his forehead. This monster had the nimbleness to close the distance between them in just a couple of steps. He raised his sword, ready to strike, and aimed his left hand at the creature’s head, firing off a Manabolt.

As the Knight blocked, he darted to the left and struck between the rusted plates of its leg. His blade connected with the knee’s joint, but failed to do much. Before he could attack again, he saw the heater shield rushing towards him. With barely a moment to react, he jumped back and brought up the old buckler.

You have been hit! -43 HP.

Old Buckler has been destroyed!

The sheer force of blow sent him flying back a couple of feet. Somehow managing to land on his feet, he held his left arm as it throbbed violently.

He glanced at the boss’ health and then his own, a weak sigh escaping him. ’96 percent. So, a critical hit to its joint barely shaved off a twentieth of its health… On the other hand, I’m definitely dead if he lands more than a couple of direct blows on me.’

The Skeletal Knight circled him, its shield raised and at the ready. Not eager to get caught off guard again, Drake maintained the distance, wincing as he gripped his sword with his left as well. The boss’ eyes flared and lit up even brighter, an ear-splitting roar erupting from its maw. His legs trembled at the sound of the demonic scream, when a small notification chimed before him.

You have been dazed by Zane Stills’ Grave Spite. Your movement is impaired for 3 seconds.

Their gaze interlocked, the monster hissed and turned around. Drake’s eyes widened seeing the Knight sprint towards Roy’s back. Gritting his teeth, he forced his arm up as he channeled a large chunk of his mana into a Spell Piercer. ‘Please… hit!’

He fired, the force of the blast sending him tumbling back. The boss spun around and took cover behind its shield just as the spell crashed into it. The rusted steel and rotten wood shattered on impact as the Skeletal Knight fell on its back. It wasn’t a direct hit, but his attack had at least carved off a tenth of the boss’ health. And with the debuff now gone, he got up, took up his stance and kicked off.

Not to be outdone, the Knight heaved itself up partway, just in time to parry Drake’s strike. But even with the boss still on one knee, he couldn’t overpower it. The undead abomination’s bones creaked as it forced its way up, driving him back. Stepping back, he ducked and guided the Knight’s sword up as he slammed his hand onto the rusted armor’s newly formed crack. “Block… THIS!"

The armor’s insides lit up as he cast three Manabolts straight into the boss’ ribcage. The compounded force sent the creature toppling back. But before it fell, the Knight kicked him in the chest, knocking the air out of his lungs and sending him flying straight into the crater at the center of the chamber.

You have been hit! -83 HP.

You have been Dazed. Your movement is impaired for 2 seconds.

Drake struggled to get up, fighting off a fit of coughs. He wiped the tears from his eyes and squinted at the Skeletal Knight and then at his own HUD. ‘Crap… if that thing dazes me mid-fight… I’m already half dead and down to a quarter of my mana, but even with all that, this thing is still holding steady at 56% HP…'

He sighed and forced himself up. Bracing himself, he fired another Spell Piercer that crashed into the boss’ head. His mana had disappeared entirely, but the boss’ health had finally dipped below half. ‘Okay… I probably have a few seconds.’ He opened up his Inventory and took out the two potions Roy had given him.

You have activated Xelian Trance.

His eyes glowed as the skill came into effect. ‘If it’s a war of attrition you want, fine…' He spat out the corks and drank the bitter tasting vials.

Small Mana Potion effectiveness has been increased by Xelian Trance.

The dull ache throughout his body slowly faded and he could feel energy welling up inside of him. And, for some reason, the Skeletal Knight’s movements seemed… sluggish. It picked itself up and began advancing towards him with shaky steps.

Drake bided his time. Even though he had already recovered most of his mana, he didn’t want the boss to come within striking distance. He took a step back, but as the cracked stone beneath his foot gave way, the Knight charged.

Xelian Trance has ended.

Their swords clashed, the edges biting into one another. Pinned down on one knee, Drake tried in vain to deflect the boss’ blade. But the creature pulled back, destroying Drake’s precarious balance, and then swept his legs. It hissed and thrust its sword into the cracked floor below, the edge dangerously close to his neck.

“Stranger… I am not your enemy.”

Drake froze. He expected it to be game over. But instead, the Skeletal Knight merely loomed above him, its two crimson flames smoldering behind the rusted helmet’s visor.

“I can sense your… reluctance. We do not have to fight… I seek only retribution. Against those… that murdered my loved ones… and those that sat by idly…”

The undead creature’s words echoed inside his mind, filling Drake with a formless feeling of anger and frustration. He said nothing and continued to stare at the boss.

“I have… a proposition. Lend me your strength, Stranger… Alone, I cannot hope to win against that… monster.” The Skeletal Knight stood up, tearing out its sword from the cracked floor. The boss then glanced back at Roy who now kneeled against the stone wall, his hand still firmly placed upon the key. “Once the Dungeon’s seal is broken, I will be powerless to stop him. Please… while I still have the strength to do so… help me protect my mother and sister’s final resting place. And should you will it… help me take revenge on the four noble houses…”

He remained silent as he hoisted himself up, staring at the former noble. “I… really don’t think that the master had nothing to do with what happened here,” he said, looking at Roy’s heaving back. “And all the nobles that wronged you are long gone…”

“Yes… but the nests of those vipers still remain…”

“The nests… you mean killing the descendants of those people…?”

“Whatever is necessary… to stop others… from having to go through the same ordeal as me and my family. I beg of you, Stranger… my cause is just. Aid me and I promise, on the memory of my family, that I will grant you more power… than you could ever dream of…”

An Elegy Of Years Gone By – Alternate Quest Route

Zane Stills has requested your aid in his quest to avenge his family and put a stop to the corruption of Xeladia’s four Great Noble Houses.

In exchange, you will become a Dread Knight, a powerful warrior capable of commanding unholy creatures to do your bidding, strengthened by the dark magic at your disposal.

Do you accept? Yes No

Seeing the chime of the system notification left a bitter taste in Drake’s mouth. “I know this might seem like a dumb question to you, but… is there really no chance that you might reconsider this?”

“It is indeed unreasonable… to ask the hungry wolf to starve. I cannot find something else within my soul… other than the hate that I have fed it with…”

Drake sighed. “When I first set foot in Enoa, I thought it’d just be me and my friend. And I was okay with that. It’s almost always been just the two of us.” His eyes fell upon the master’s back as he recalled his words. ‘Giving up comes naturally, but in life, anything worthwhile requires constant sacrifice.’

Raising his sword, he placed two fingers upon its spine, sliding his hand across his blade as blue flames swirled across the edge, racing from one side to the other, forming a closed loop. “But I guess I’m not as alone as I thought I was. And it really is okay to reach out to others,” he smiled, lifting his fingers from his glowing sword. “I mean, even you stopped to ask me for help. But I’m sorry, Zane. I can’t help you… At least, not in the way you want me to. I truly am sorry…”

You have learned Spellblade (Spell)!

Spellblade (Spell)

Rank:ApprenticeLevel:1 (0.0%)

Magic School:Arcane

You have learned how to imbue raw mana you’re your blade, strengthening it and causing it to deal bonus Arcane damage.

Bonus Damage:8.4

Base Mana Cost/Second:5/s

Cast Time:0.5s

“So be it,” said the Knight, the flames in its… No. In his eyes flaring wildly. Regardless of the fate that had befallen him, a part of Zane was still there.

The former Knight staggered as the carvings on the door behind him grew brighter. Holding out his palm, he balled it into a fist, crimson energy pulsing around it. In sync, the piles of bones strewn around them began to rattle and, one by one, skeletons rose to their feet, armed with splintered bones or rusty weapons.

Drake frowned as more and more Skeletal Thralls took shape. ‘A dozen… now thirteen. Shit. If I don’t stop him, he’ll just keep spawning more.’

Seeing Zane step back and head towards Roy, Drake jumped out of the crater and rushed the Knight, only to be stopped by two newly created skeletons. Their severed heads shattered against the ground as Drake’s sword traced a thin, blue trail. He pivoted to the side, dodging another skeleton and swung down on its femur. His blade drew a bright, V-shaped line, severing the leg and then the monster’s spine, just below the ribs.

More had shambled closer. Drake aimed at the boss and fired as his sword’s blue glow vanished. His Spell Piercer ripped through the back of Zane’s armor, scattering rusted pieces everywhere.

The Skeletal Knight stumbled to the side, eyes flaring. Zane then jerked back and roared, the blood in Drake’s veins turning to ice. As his muscles began to tense, two more Thralls charged him. He leaned back, narrowly dodging the bone spike aimed at his neck as the second monster’s rusty dagger pierced his thigh.

You have been affected by Grave Spite.

You have been hit! -68HP.

He screamed, tears welling in his eyes as finally regained control of his limbs. The pain faded quickly and he lopped the skull off of one and kicked the other Thrall to the ground, hacking off its head. He then lifted his gaze and saw Zane shambling across the chamber, no sign of his previously measured stride.

Drake ran, his steps beating a stuttered rhythm across the cracked floor, as he weaved and fought his way passed the mob of skeletons. The few now left were too far away to stop him. He kicked off, bracing himself as he tackled the Knight pinned to the ground.

“NO!” Zane shrieked, flailing underneath Drake as his old bones bashed and creaked within the old armor. “You don’t understand! If the seal breaks… the souls of these abominations will be set free! They deserve to rot here with me… for all eternity!”

One by one, the Skeletal Thralls trying to reach them slumped to the ground, like stringless puppets. Drake bit his lip and stared at the trembling, skeletal hand reaching out towards the master. “COWARD! At least… finish the job!”

Zane’s words stung deeper than any blow he could have dealt. He opened his mouth to speak. But as the stone doorway parted, its light fading, so too did the former Knight’s struggle cease. “Curse you, Darkeye…”

The name shook Drake out of his stupor. He raised his eyes to meet Roy’s tired expression. “How… did he know your name?”

“My father’s armor,” he said, kneeling down and placing a gentle hand on Drake’s shoulder. From within his pack, he then brought out a chest, no bigger than the palm of his hand. Runes were etched into every facet of the container. Inside laid a small tool, not unlike an icepick with a wooden handle. He grabbed it and removed the Knight’s helmet. Then, using the pick’s slightly curved end, he began to carve a rune right onto the skull’s surface.

“Master… what are you doing?” At first, he got no response, but he decided against asking again. A minute passed as Roy kept painstakingly engraving tiny symbols into the old bone.

“My family failed the Stills once before. And nothing I do now will ever erase that,” he said, putting away his carving instrument. “But, if nothing else, I at least owe it to myself to try and make up for their wrongdoings.” The master placed a finger on the center of the spiral-shaped rune and traced its outline, lighting up the delicate pattern. “I think it’s about time I told you a bit more about what type of mage I am and, obviously, what type of mage you’ll be.

“For generations, the Darkeyes have practiced various forms of necromancy” he continued, his gaze still fixated on the glowing rune. And while Roy’s face remained impassive, his voice betrayed a type of resentment that made Drake shiver. “Little more than glorified torturers, these proud advisors to the throne maimed and mutilated anyone that dared to oppose the Royal Court. Death was only a small step along the way for them to get whatever they needed from the poor bastards that crossed the Four Houses.”

A lump formed in the back of Drake’s throat, his eyes shifting between the rune carved into Zane’s skull and Roy. Soon enough, the master resumed his train of thought.

“At fourteen, I left the house and never looked back. But this,” he said, pointing at his left eye, “served as a constant reminder. Since every Darkeye firstborn has the ability to see spirits or their remnants, I wanted to at least try and make something else of it. So, with the help of an Alarian elf, I soon discovered my own path. Spiritual Invocation. The art of forming a pact with a spirit and calling upon them to lend you their power. Heh… the old fucks would be shrieking in their graves if they knew the level of depravity I’ve fallen to. Can you imagine, not forcing something to do your bidding?”

Roy smiled bitterly, placing his hand upon the rune. “Now, this particular sort of spell will hopefully fade out of existence along with me and my family’s name. But in the meantime, I might as well commit as many transgressions as I possibly can!”

Pale light leaked from beneath the master’s palm as the old bone below turned to dust, leaving only the piece of skull intact where Roy had drawn his rune. “When you try to sense spirits, unlike mana, you should let them reach out to you. Don’t try to envision anything. Start from the outside and work your way in – feel how they influence the space around you.”

The thoughts swirled inside of Drake’s head. Nothing about this had felt like a game from the very beginning. And Roy had somehow managed to piled on even more. He sighed and closed his eyes, doing his best to still his mind. He immediately felt the mana inside of and around him. But something was off. It took him a moment to notice the complete absence of mana in the area where the master stood. ‘Is he just drained, or…?’

He shook his head, and exhaled. ‘Think of the mana swirling around you…’ Truth be told, he had no idea what he was supposed to do. Several minutes passed and, invariably, his senses kept returning to the energy he felt within him. Under Roy’s watchful gaze, he sighed, got up, and drew his sword. His fingers traced the now familiar line along the blade’s spine, coating the edges in a thin, blue light.

With his left foot forward, he took the stance he had practiced thousands of times and began to swing. He could feel the weight of his thoughts lifting from his mind, losing himself in the cadenced movement of his weapon. It didn’t take long for the feeling of Spellblade to weaken and fade, his mana almost entirely spent. And as he stopped, a state of emptiness washed over him. He felt the weight of his sword moving through the cold, stale air, and the mana particles floating around him. Finally, he felt the current of energy gathering close to the floor and, hidden within that flow, something else entirely.

Drake focused on the tiny, purple sparks drifting alongside the mana particles spiraling above the rune. His eyes shot open, having become keenly aware of the faint pressure emanating from it.

You have learned Spirit Sight (Skill)!

Spirit Sight (Skill)

Rank:ApprenticeLevel:1 (0.0%)

Magic School:Arcane

You have learned to recognize the distinct energy patterns of spiritual beings around you. You can now use this ability in order to perceive spirits within your vicinity.

Detection Radius: 3.0 Meters

Mana Cost:0.5s

“Alright,” the master nodded, picking up the sliver of carved bone. “Zane, can you hear us?”

The former Knight’s voice resounded within their head. His threatening tone, however, was nowhere to be found. “What… Who… are you?”

“First thing’s first. Do you remember what happened?”

“Yes… it’s coming to me. But it’s all still… hazy.”

“That’s a start. The name’s Roy Darkeye. And I’m fairly sure you remember Drake here.”

“Darkeye… but, you’re not –”

“My father?” the master scoffed, looking at the purple wisp within his hand. “No. Wendel’s rotting back in Alissey, may the dirt be heavy on his putrid soul. But while that fact may bring a little comfort to you, it’s not why we’re here. Zane, I’ve temporarily bound your spirit to this plane of existence. And I hope you can answer a couple of questions for us.”

“If they are within my knowledge…”

“First thing’s first,” Roy said, pointing at the old magical formation carved into the floor of the stone chamber, “who on Enoa helped you cast this abomination of a spell?”

“A few months prior to the fall of king Villis… we asked someone to acquire the spell anonymously… from your estate.” The old mage’s wrinkles grew deeper, his expression causing the hair on the nape of Drake’s neck to stand on end. “It was meant… as the tomb’s final defense. But then they came for us… in the dead of night, with the dwarfs’ siege engines. My mother and sister… barely made it inside the tomb… before the Four’s lackeys broke in…”

Roy sighed and glanced at Zane’s prison: the giant, cracked crystal embedded into the chamber’s ceiling. “So, you fought them off and the moment your family got in, you activated that spell to take as many of them with you as possible.”

“Indeed… serving an eternity as the tomb’s guardians seemed… fitting at the time. But… wait, how did you… my mother took the only key inside with her.”

“We found this in a dwarven merchant’s caravan. Aside from a hidden barrel of Manastones, this was the only thing that stood out.”

“I was there… I saw the Forgemaster making the key… and then shattering the only mold!”

The master tapped his boot, causing heavy thuds to reverberate throughout the chamber. His eyes shifted from the purple wisp, whose glow had now diminished, to the massive stone door. “I could see them holding onto a second key,” he muttered, picking up the runed bone fragment.

“Or,” said Drake, getting up and approaching the doorway,” there could be an exit somewhere inside this tomb.”

His words, like a douse of cold water, made Roy jerk his head towards him. Zane’s spirit also lit up, his voice echoing louder inside their minds.

“That… cannot be. The tomb’s final chamber is a dead end.”

“No, the runt’s right. Either the dwarfs had another key, or your family got out. And that brings us to my next question: what’s beyond this seal?”

“A tomb… built by the Architects. And within it lies a broken Worldgate.”

Drake watched the mage’s brow shoot up. “The Architects?” he asked as he watched the master making his way towards the stone archway.

The runes on Roy’s gauntlet lit up, casting a reddish light around them. The chamber then rumbled as he slammed his hand on the door’s surface and began to push. Clouds of dust rose, making the already stagnant air even worse. And while Drake tried to calm the fit of coughs that had gripped him, he heard the master’s voice.

“The Architects were an ancient race. Some think of them as gods, responsible for the creation of our world. But if you ask me, they were bastards meddling in things that should have best been left alone.”

“W-what did they do?” he asked, coughing and wiping away a tear.

“They used to show up whenever things went from bad to worse. The last time they showed up was before the Shattering, a bit more than twenty-four centuries ago. And just before they vanished, they left us with a prophecy,” said Roy, staring straight at him. “The Arrival of the Strangers.”

‘Wait a second…’ Drake took another look at the scenes etched into the giant doorway. ‘Obviously, the only people that should’ve known about us players are the game developers, or some NPCs heavily influenced by them.’ He couldn’t finish his thought as the master gestured, beckoning their source of light –the floating orb of mana– close to him.

“Zane, thanks for your help. Now, here’s my final question to you: do you wish to come with us or do you want me to release your spirit?”

“I will join you. At least for the moment. Drake, there should be a pendant around my neck. I would like you to have it. Thank you, for choosing to spare me in the end. Your kindness has allowed me the chance to find out what has become of my family.”

Drake nodded and smiled. He reached down and grabbed the small, jeweled necklace. ‘Heh, I think I’m starting to get what Dan sees in games like this.’

You have obtained Zane’s Regret.

As he approached the doorway’s threshold, he heard the familiar chime of another system notification.

An Elegy Of Years Gone By

Update: With the tomb now open, Zane’s words have brought more questions than answers. Follow Roy into the tomb and uncover its secrets.

Quest Difficulty: C+

“Where do you think you’re going, runt?”

Startled, Drake turned around to see Roy in the center of the stone chamber, sword drawn. But before he could even reply, the master continued.

“I’ve seen quite enough. Now, I think it’s time for me to show you a glimpse of what I can do!”

Trial by Fire

Update: Having deemed you worthy, Master Roy has decided to finally teach you your first lessons. Objective: Survive and gain a small understanding of your future abilities. This quest cannot be declined.

Quest Difficulty: B