"Ugh—ah—ah!" A Red Bone tilted his skull back and roared, his entire body covered in black spots that spread like ink dropped in water. Eventually, the spots merged into a thin black film over his red bones. After a moment, he stopped trembling, lifted his massive bone hammer from the human corpse, and strode toward Karenval.
"Karenval, thank you for your care. Though I will no longer be your direct subordinate after advancing, I will always be your most loyal comrade-in-arms." The newly promoted Battle Bone raised his head proudly. "I wish to be called Alberta—he was my first superior Battle Bone, and he fell in River Valley Village."
"Very well, Alberta. I accept your friendship, and we shall fight side by side from now on!" Karenval boomed. Catching Ryan's curious gaze, he sent a message via Soul Speech—a skill only Battle Bones and higher-ranked skeletons could master. "An important thing after advancing to Battle Bone is choosing your own name. You are no longer just cannon fodder."
"A name..." Ryan muttered, savoring the word. He felt he should have one too, but he couldn't recall what it was.
"You don't need a name yet, but your bone skill should have one. Why not think of one now?"
Ryan raised his right hand. A sharp, slender bone needle slowly emerged from between his light red palm bones, a faint white glow at its tip that looked extremely unusual. He felt a soft warmth emanating from the glow.
"Need help?" Karenval asked playfully. "I know a ton of good names."
"Uh... no thanks," Ryan declined unexpectedly.
Karenval seemed to have anticipated this. He shrugged and returned to overseeing the exchange progress at the Soye Tribe. It had to be said—the men of the grassland were true warriors. To save the children, they willingly surrendered to become the skeletons' prey. And Karenval kept his word; ignoring the disapproving glances of the other Battle Bones, he strictly enforced the one-for-one exchange: for every adult man killed, one woman or child was set free.
There were a few bachelors who tried to escape—no family, not deeply attached to the women. They hoped to break through on horseback, but there were few of them. Caught by a dozen Battle Bones, they didn't stand a chance. Even their tribesmen helped the skeletons stop them, for even a coward could trade his life for a child's.
On the grassland, besides adult warriors, children were the most cherished—they were the future. The young ones, only a few years old, were tied to horseback and fled the Soye Tribe. Not all of them would survive, but at least not all would die.
Thanks to Karenval's fairness, the exchange went smoothly. The strong tribesmen were tied up in front of the Red Bones, letting them drive their sharp weapons into their hearts or slit their throats. Karenval's plan was for the Red Bones to do all the killing, hoping to evolve more Battle Bones—each new Battle Bone made the entire skeleton army stronger.
Ryan didn't join in. He had no chance of advancing; he had signed a Soul Link Contract with Karenval. Until Karenval advanced to Strong Bone, Ryan would forever remain a Red Bone.
But the benefits of the Soul Link Contract were nourishing him. Every time one of Karenval's Red Bones killed a human, a portion of the Life Essence went to Karenval, and a small fraction of that passed to Ryan.
Cries and screams filled the air, but unlike the other skeletons, Ryan didn't feel excited—instead, he grew restless and irritable. To ease this discomfort, he stabbed the white-tipped bone needle into his leg bone. A burning pain stirred a vague memory, but when he tried to grasp it, it slipped away.
Ryan pulled the needle out. The Life Essence from Karenval quickly healed his wound, but he stabbed himself again. A faint hissing sound and the smell of burning bone drew the attention of many nearby skeletons.
The exchange continued, and the number of remaining men in the Soye Tribe dwindled. Ryan kept repeating this masochistic game, desperate to catch that fleeting, familiar pain.
"What's wrong? Your bones itchy? Only way to scratch is this violent?" Karenval noticed Ryan's odd behavior.
Ryan suddenly stopped. "This feels like a bee sting."
"Heh-heh, truly a creature with black blood—even remembers what a bee sting feels like. Your memories go back to when you were human." Karenval chuckled, as if he'd found a treasure.
"Human... me?"
"Yes. You're a humanoid skeleton—you were human once. But later, you might have become a powerful skeleton warrior, maybe even reincarnated dozens of times. Remembering your human days means your blood is pure—you'll be a strong one." Karenval explained cheerfully.
Ryan nodded, but he thought to himself: *Karenval was the one who seemed abnormal, like someone with a deep, mysterious past.*
"Got a name yet?"
"Huh?"
"For your bone skill. That weird white-tipped bone needle—the one that can take down a Battle Bone, the little toy that gives you a bee-sting 'pleasure'."
"A bee sting isn't pleasant..." Ryan sighed at Karenval's silly description, but he still announced the name he'd chosen.
"White Wasp!" Ryan's voice trembled slightly with excitement as he said it. He stared at the white tip of the bone needle, as if giving it a name had made it sharper.
"Your bone skill is called White Wasp?" Karenval's tone sounded strange.
"Well? Isn't it cool?"
"Cheesy as hell. And," Karenval said bluntly, "if you're naming it that, how can you say it's not a toy for your own amusement?"
Before Ryan could retort in annoyance, a human shout rang out: "I challenge him! Let me fight him fairly! Are you skeletons all cowards? Is there no one brave enough to duel me, Ajaw?"
Ryan turned to the man tied up like a captive—it was the young man with the best horseback skills, the one who'd dragged Ryan back to the tribe. His bloodshot eyes were fixed on Ryan.
"The woman he traded for has already left—he's a dead man. But he's challenging you. Will you refuse?" Karenval's voice sounded like he was urging Ryan to accept. And that's exactly what Ryan wanted—battle was the best way to train. With Karenval watching, the worst that could happen was broken bones; he couldn't die.
"I accept!"
"That's my good Red Bone! Burn with your White Wasp!" Karenval laughed and approved the duel.
Ajaw was untied. He bent forward slightly, fists clenched, staring at Ryan with blood-red eyes. Everything had started with this cunning Red Bone. If they hadn't been lured out by him, the Soye Tribe would never have been annihilated today.
"Give him a weapon." Ryan's voice was cold and confident—more than he himself expected.
The surrounding Red Bones froze. Ajaw looked extremely strong; most Red Bones couldn't defeat him even with him unarmed. Yet Ryan was asking for him to be given a weapon. *Was this foolish skeleton asking for death—just like when he'd stabbed his own leg with the bone needle?*
"Give it to him!" Karenval's order snapped the Red Bones out of their daze. Soon, a skeleton handed Ajaw a short scimitar.
A flame ignited in Ajaw's eyes. *If he moved fast enough, hit hard enough, could he break free? These skeletons were all weak—if he could grab a horse, he could escape. Even those black skeletons couldn't catch a galloping steed.*
The hope of survival pumped through Ajaw's veins. A flash of killing intent crossed his face as he charged at Ryan—take down this Red Bone, then run.
Ryan stood still, slightly bent, motionless—as if frozen in fear. The other skeletons sneered, watching Karenval's favorite, waiting to see him split in two by Ajaw's scimitar. Only Karenval's mouth curved into a smile; he knew what Ryan was planning.
*Dodge the vital spots. If he hits my cervical spine, I'll die—I must dodge.* Ryan stared intently at Ajaw's hands, lowering his center of gravity. Though he'd never received formal combat training, surviving countless life-or-death situations had given him an instinctive understanding of battle.
White Wasp hung loosely at Ryan's side, harmless and unnoticeable. Ajaw didn't even spare it a glance.
"Die, monster!" Ajaw's young body was bursting with power. He leaped high five or six meters away from Ryan, his sharp scimitar slicing through the night like lightning, hacking down at Ryan's neck.
If this strike landed, Ryan would be split in two.
The scimitar was so fast—even a Battle Bone might not dodge it. The skeletons were certain Ryan was dead.
But Ryan didn't flinch. He had no time to dodge—or rather, he dared not. Losing his balance would let Ajaw finish him off quickly.
Ryan could only lift his left arm to block the scimitar.
The scimitar sliced through Ryan's radius and ulna with ease, then kept going, snapping his humerus. Though the scimitar's momentum seemed unchanged, breaking three bones had slightly altered its direction. With a slight twist of Ryan's body, the blade that was meant for his cervical spine landed on his collarbone.
The collarbone was just as fragile. The scimitar hacked down, breaking all of Ryan's left ribs. After shattering more than a dozen bones, the scimitar's force was spent, finally getting stuck in his hip bone.
Ajaw landed, not noticing the blade had strayed from its target. He prepared to pull the scimitar out and deliver the fatal blow to the nearly split-open Ryan.
But Ryan struck first.
"White Wasp!" With a somewhat slurred roar, Ryan drove the White Wasp—coiled and ready in his right hand—into Ajaw's ear. Ajaw, confident of victory, never expected Ryan to have such tenacity, or a Red Bone to move so fast. Most of all, he never expected White Wasp's power to be so terrifying.
White Wasp easily pierced Ajaw's eardrum, cut through his middle ear, crushed his auditory nerve, and finally stabbed into his skull. Intense heat erupted from the needle, instantly incinerating Ajaw's brain. The young man's expression turned painful and ferocious; blood vessels spread across his sclera like a spiderweb, then flooded his eyes completely. Finally, scalding blood and brain matter, mixed with thick steam, popped his eyes out, sending them flying more than ten meters away. His strong body knelt with a thud, and his right hand—still gripping the scimitar—never lifted again.