Yeoman left the adventurers’ guild and stared up at the sky. What was he going to do now? It turned out his party had gone to a dungeon, and instead of clearing it, they decided to use it as a training ground. The guild receptionist had told him that. When a party failed to report back from a dungeon after a certain amount of time, another mission would be distributed to locate the missing party. It was the second party that had informed the guild of Yeoman’s party’s intentions.

After handing in some of the water from the Fountain of Youth, the guild master had promoted the party to rank S. As for why the guild master didn’t increase it all the way to rank SSS, Yeoman wasn’t strong enough. Apparently, Mr. Skelly was right. Skeletons became stronger after recovering from breaks and fractures. When Lindyss had shattered Yeoman’s body twice, his bones had undergone a wave of reinforcement. Yeoman wasn’t sure if the effects were permanent, or if they were temporarily buffed thanks to the presence of the corrupted woman’s mana. Either way, Yeoman didn’t mind a free strength increase. From rank B to rank S, his strength had increased a lot in the seven months since he had been abducted, and it felt like he didn’t even do much for it. He had taught English to goblins, slept with an uncountable number of dryads, and had his bones demolished and repaired by the master of the undead. At the start of the stage, he had a few expectations for what would happen in a stage involving The Blue Mage Raised by Dragons, but every single one of them were wrong.

Yeoman checked his fleshwatch. There were only two more missions left:

[Bonus Mission: Complete S-ranked Mission “Fruit of Knowledge”.]

[Reward: 5,000 Points]

[Bonus Mission: Complete SS-ranked Mission “Obtain a Dragon Egg”.]

[Reward: 7,500 Points]

As for the main mission, there was still five months and a week left before it ended. Yeoman frowned. The tougher mission would obviously be obtaining the dragon egg; after all, dragons were superior to elves. However, Yeoman didn’t think he could take on the elves who guarded the Fruits of Knowledge by himself. Even if Cody and the rest were there, they wouldn’t be able to contribute much even if they had grinded in a dungeon for five months.

When Yeoman thought about a Fruit of Knowledge, the skeletons came to mind. He had managed to get a rotting Fruit of Knowledge from the undead, proving they were capable of raiding the elves. Lindyss also didn’t want to be disturbed. Would it be possible to command the skeletons to attack the elves by pretending it was an order given by Lindyss? Given the skeletons’ loyalty to the Corrupted One, Yeoman thought the chances of pulling it off were pretty high. He wouldn’t lose much if he failed either. He might die, but since the majority of the missions had already been completed, he’d only be missing out on the few paltry points given for surviving.

Having made up his mind, Yeoman spread his wings and leapt into the air. Then, he flew back down and went to the inn. Even if he wouldn’t lose much for dying, wouldn’t it be better to not die in the first place? He had used his ring to teleport out of the dryads’ community, and he’d have to wait another week before he could teleport again. However, the innkeeper didn’t believe Yeoman when he said he was part of Cody’s party. It had been a few months since that one time Yeoman had checked into the inn, and back then, he didn’t have the leaves on his head and wings. It still irked Yeoman though. How many other zombies with wings had visited the inn? Shouldn’t he have made a strong impression?

Yeoman settled with staying on top of the inn’s roof. There was more sunlight there anyway, so he didn’t mind being exposed to the elements. Every morning, he’d jump off the roof and enter the inn, buying himself a meal. After completing an SSS-ranked mission, he had been given a hundred gold coins. It was no small sum, but compared to the prices of armors and weapons imbued with orichalcum and mithril, it barely made a dent. There were some cheap mithril armor options, but none of them worked for Yeoman because they were made to fit humans. He didn’t know how much he’d change either after the stage ended. The best option would be to make a robe out of mithril threads, but the cost was exorbitant. As for orichalcum, the metal was so rare that, in the central continent, it was usually found only in auctions, brought back by SSS-ranked adventurers who had returned from the north. For a five-pound piece of orichalcum, one hundred gold wasn’t even enough for the starting bid.

As for carrying around a hundred gold coins—ninety-nine after Yeoman had split it to buy food at the inn—if it weren’t for Lindyss’ shadow pouch, Yeoman would’ve had to open a bank account at the adventurers’ guild and pay their extortionist fees. He wasn’t quite sure what would happen if he left the gold in the bank either. Would he lose it when the stage ended? He didn’t know if he’d ever come back to the world of The Blue Mage Raised by Dragons, and even if he did, he had no idea if there’d be any continuity. For his own sake, he hoped there wouldn’t be because he was about to fool the minions of Lindyss and Grimmoldesser.

The days passed by pretty quickly, and Yeoman set off, filled with confidence thanks to his ring. It probably wasn’t a good idea to rely on a single item so heavily in case it disappeared one day, but since it was still there, Yeoman planned on abusing the heck out of it. There was still a cooldown period on the ring, but by the time he made it to the skeletons’ territory, the teleportation would be available. When Yeoman reached his destination, the sight of hundreds of skeletons dancing greeted him.

“Oh, look who’s back!” one of the skeletons said, pointing up.

“It’s our favorite moron!”

“You can’t just call him a moron.”

“I didn’t. I called him our favorite moron. It has a sweeter connotation.”

Yeoman pretended not to hear the skeletons’ chatter. It was hard to differentiate who said what. Upon landing, he looked around. “Where’s Mr. Skelly?”

“Right next to you,” a skeleton said and tapped on Yeoman’s shoulder.

Yeoman furrowed his brow. Honestly, all the skeletons looked the same to him, and since Mr. Skelly wasn’t wearing any armor, he looked pretty ordinary. “I have orders from the Corrupted One,” Yeoman said, grateful his body didn’t have any telltale signs of lying.

“Hang on,” the skeleton said, raising a finger. “I’m not actually Mr. Skelly.”

Yeoman blinked as the skeleton walked away. He glanced at the remaining skeletons, but they just shrugged at him. “Is, uh, someone going to get him?”

“He’ll be here soon.”

“Meanwhile, do you want to dance?”

“Sing us a song.”

“Tell us about the dryads.”

The skeletons must’ve been bored out of their minds. They were isolated, and it didn’t seem like any news came to them. All they could do was dance, sing, and kill each other. For some reason, the place reminded Yeoman of Valhalla, the place Norse warriors went after dying in battle. They ate, drank, and killed each other—reviving at the end of the day—preparing for the final battle. Yeoman sighed and found a nearby rock to sit on. “So, the dryads—”

“I’m here,” Mr. Skelly said, making his way to the front of the crowd. “I’m here.” He stared at Yeoman. “You said the mistress had orders?”

Yeoman stifled the annoyance blossoming in his chest. “Yes. She doesn’t want anyone bothering her for the foreseeable future. However, she wants us to get as many Fruits of Knowledge as we can to aid in her recovery.”

Mr. Skelly’s eye sockets widened, and he let out a laugh. “Gear up, ladies and gents! We’re paying a visit to the elves!”

“To the elves!”

“It’s been a while since we’ve been to elven territory. I wonder how much it’s changed.”

“Where’s my sword? Which one of you took my sword?”

“It’s hanging on your waist.”

“Oh.”

Yeoman was a bit surprised at how easily the skeletons accepted his plan, but after thinking about it, he realized they were just waiting for an excuse to make trouble. Anyone would be bored after being cooped up in a swamp for a few centuries. It seemed like getting Fruits of Knowledge to complete the bonus mission wouldn’t be an issue. If he was lucky, there’d be plenty of fruits, letting him unlock whatever he wanted on the phylogenetic tree of life, but Yeoman doubted that’d be the case. The aliens were clearly stingy with the number of people who could complete their missions. In the first stage, only one person could kill the smart infected. In this stage, only one party could complete the dragon egg mission, and there were only fifteen usages of the Fountain of Youth water—enough for two parties. If the trend were to continue, there’d probably only be seven to fourteen Fruit of Knowledge ripe enough to eat and hand in.

Yeoman shook his head. Worrying about it now didn’t make sense. Since he was alone, he could always decide on what to do with the fruits after obtaining them. He watched the skeletons scramble around for a while before turning to Mr. Skelly. “Do you have a plan?”

Mr. Skelly raised an eyebrow, his eye socket contorting. “Eh? Even if I told you, would you understand? Just do as you’re told.”

Yeoman missed the dryads. They thought he was naïve, but that was only due to differences in culture. Unlike the skeletons, the dryads didn’t treat him like he was an imbecile. Well, Yeoman had to admit making plans wasn’t one of his strong suits as they always seemed to go awry, but he had come up with this one, hadn’t he? After thinking about it for a bit, Yeoman relaxed. He’d treat it as asking a subordinate at work to take on a responsibility. There was no way he’d be able to get the Fruits of Knowledge by himself, so why should he be the one to worry about it? If the skeletons succeeded, great. If not, well, Yeoman didn’t lose anything.

“It’s great to see none of you have been slacking,” Mr. Skelly said, taking in the view of all the skeletons standing in a formation.

“We’ve been training for this day.”

“Wait? It’s today? The day we’ve been training for? Wasn’t it for a final war against the humans and demons?”

“It’s just a saying.”

Mr. Skelly cleared his nonexistent throat and brought his bony hand to his skull. He stuck two fingers inside his mouth and let out an ear-piercing whistle. Yeoman thought it made no sense seeing as there wasn’t any tongue or lips or even air for the whistle to happen, but a moment later, skeletal horses climbed their way out of the swamp. There were enough mounts for all the undead there, Yeoman included. In fact, there were some extra horses, and Yeoman saw one of them mounting another, sitting upright and pretending to be a humanoid skeleton. Of course, he didn’t say anything about it. The skeletons would probably ridicule him if he did.

The journey to the elves was uneventful. As undead, they didn’t have to stop to eat, drink, pee, or sleep. Apparently, they had ways to see in the dark as well because the horses kept on going without crashing or tripping even though there was no moon out at night. The journey itself only took a day and a half. Yeoman suspected it’d have taken much longer if he were to come here with his party. The beasts left the undead alone; skeletons weren’t worth eating. Of course, Yeoman’s scent attracted a few insects and even one bear, but none of those slowed the group down.

However, the skeletal horses did come to a halt eventually. There was something different about the forest they had entered, but Yeoman couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Perhaps it was the way the trees grew. It was unnatural. Most trees grew straight and tall, but these trees were winding and crooked yet full of bright green leaves. The underbrush was different as well. It looked pristine, untrampled, like a field covered in snow that had just freshly fallen—but green. There were dozens of different bird calls ringing in Yeoman’s ears, yet there wasn’t any droning of insects.

“We’re here, ladies and gents,” Mr. Skelly said. “It’ll be a bit tricky from here on out. You can barely see it from where we’re standing, but that big tree over there is our target.”

Yeoman tilted his head back. Beyond the foliage of the crooked trees, Yeoman saw the vague outline of a rounded treetop. It looked a little like a small hill. If seen from above, the Tree of Knowledge would definitely stand out amongst the rest of the trees. It was no wonder why the main character had taken interest in it in the original novel.

“Alright,” Mr. Skelly said, gesturing for everyone to huddle together as if they were at a football game. It was a bit silly seeing as it was impossible for all the skeletons to duck their heads into a circle. “Here’s the plan.”