E-Ranked Dungeon Cleared

Dungeon Boss Cleared

Dungeon Core - Acquired

Dungeon Clear Percentage - 85%

Dungeon Boss Cleared 1/1

Hidden Boss Cleared 0/2

Total Bosses 1 / 3

Treasure Chest Looted 0/0

Rewards

NecroParty Received 100 EXP for clearing E-Ranked Dungeon

NecroParty Received 110 EXP for retrieving E-Ranked Dungeon Core

NecroParty Received 87 EXP for clearing 85% of E-Ranked Dungeon

NecroParty Received 357 EXP for clearing S-Ranked Dungeon Boss (E-Ranked Dungeon EXP Scaling)

NecroParty Received 2x Slime Egg

NecroParty Received 1x E-Ranked Dungeon Core

NecroParty Received 2x Kapa Commander Steel Sword

NecroParty Received 3x Kapa Legionnaire Spear

NecroParty has gained Party Level

NecroParty Party Level is Level 1

NecroParty Party Level is Level 2

NecroParty Party Level is Level 3

NecroParty Party Level is Level 4

Greg the Skeleton Warrior has Leveled UP

Greg the Skeleton Warrior has Leveled UP

Doug the Skeleton Warrior has Leveled UP

Doug the Skeleton Warrior has Leveled UP

Matt doesn’t remember falling asleep. In fact, it alarms him that he did. The one good thing about being an undead, he figured, was no longer needing to rest. But here they are, System messages flooding in, their “loot” a few feet away, waiting to get picked up. And the dungeon? A simple pile of dirt, already covered in grass, as if the hours of terror and adventure never happened.

Greg, on the other hand, didn’t mind the sudden nap. The exhaustion he felt wasn’t physical but mental. Between the slaughter of the Kapa, the panic of losing Matt, and that time spent in a place Greg was actively blocking from his memory, he knew instinctively that if skeleton warriors were like machines, no machine could run all day and night. Sometimes you have to turn a computer off then on, Greg figures.

Also, the System did not let their near experiences go unrewarded. The spears and swords are upgrades from the basic iron tools he can summon on his own. In Greg’s mind, this was an overall shitty dungeon run, but he didn’t walk away empty-handed. Not in loot, levels or trauma, the last of which he hopes Matt never brings up. Greg’s memory of the void is a jumbled mess, but it isn’t pleasant, a fact that makes Greg shake his head violently whenever his mind drifts. A nervous tick is developing, even if Greg doesn’t realize it.

But Matt does, observing his friend. As reluctant as this started and probably still is, he fears for his comrade. And also himself. He had gambled everything on retrieving a dungeon core. Using it as the central ingredient to make a proper spellbook and accelerate beyond the bounds of what he could learn by coincidences afforded to him by the System. But now, the core is bonded to him. And he is undead. A life of living in the outskirts of society, not needing food or water, but eternally yearning for the underappreciated pleasures of life. Like a working dick, for one.

The thought becomes unbearable to Matt, and the prospect of continued unlife makes him despair. He, in fact, forgot about the deal he made to save Greg from the void. Or, more appropriately, pushed it to the edge of his mind, not wanting to think about the heavier ramifications of unleashing a possible demon from the world in between—he does not know the name of the place—into the waking world.

Meanwhile, Doug sat silent vigil, not truly needing sleep when the others did, but after a few hours, seeing the appeal. To stop thinking was good. What little thought is in his head plays the images of Matt getting beheaded and Greg dying repeatedly. The trauma of losing his bosses twice in one day becomes a new stirring call to action. He needs to be more. To protect his friends and masters. Stronger he must be, is the only conclusion Doug can come to as his mind plays two versions of the same nightmare over and over again.

So in all the NecroParty lived. Another day or another hour makes no difference. Unlife is eternal, and the only thing on Matt’s mind is the thought and the building terror of knowing the hope of easy adventures is long behind him. And the everyday threat of barely escaping with their lives is the new normal.

He doesn’t know and can’t fathom how bad it could get. Because when they were sleeping, the gleam of an arrow was pressed patiently through the underbrush, where a Lord of Chaos, in the body of a feeble skeletal archer, contemplated devastating the world.

But decided not to for now.