A thin mist still clung to the ground, even though the midday sun blazed fiercely in a cloudless sky. The air was bitterly cold—unnaturally so—as if even the sunlight refused to pierce the sinister aura that smothered the area.
In the distance, a dimensional rift tore open the sky—a massive, crimson gash that pulsed slowly, like the heart of a slumbering beast. Its chilling aura and magical pressure made the air around it shimmer and distort.
Far ahead of the rift, six figures stood in a half-circle formation. They wore distinctive silver-white uniforms, elegant yet sturdy in design—a perfect balance of grace and strength.
Emblazoned on each of their chests was a crest: a winged shield and a twin-headed dragon, accompanied by an ancient Latin inscription: Aegis Lux et Draconic—Shield of Light and Dragon—the official emblem of the British Empire, and of their elite unit, the Aegis Order.
Four men. Two women. One of them radiated an aura that stood out above the rest—silver hair catching the light like silk, and piercing dark-blue eyes that stared ahead without a shred of hesitation.
Helen Celestina.
Their attention was locked onto a single point: the blood-red rift that gaped open, releasing gusts of icy wind and whispering voices that clearly did not belong to this world.
A blond-haired man with sharp eyes looked at the rift, his expression tense. His name was Lex Mordane, their leader.
"Silent Will, those bastards..." he muttered bitterly. "You're sure you saw them go in?"
A younger man, Ren, gave a firm nod. "No mistake. They entered when the rift was still green. Nine of them, just before it turned red."
Lex narrowed his eyes. "Nine? Didn't you say there were ten?"
"Yeah. But only nine went through."
"Hmph." Lex let out a breath, then issued his orders. "Juan. Khalid. Ren. Find the missing one. Sweep the perimeter. Don't let a single one of them escape or die."
The three younger awakeners nodded quickly.
But before Lex could continue, a strange sound echoed from the rift—like hundreds of bones being snapped all at once.
Every head turned toward the gaping, blood-red tear.
And then—they came.
Hundreds of skeletons poured out of the rift, tumbling and crashing to the ground like a downpour of the undead. Some carried swords, some had horns, others wore rusted armor. All of them had glowing violet eyes, burning with unholy energy.
"Oh, fucking good," Lex muttered. "Now we've got to deal with these bony bastards first."
He turned to Juan and the others. "Hold off the search. Take them down."
They nodded, but before any of them could move, Helen stepped forward—wordless.
"I'll handle them," she said flatly.
"Hey, don't be stupid!" yelled Vera, the only other woman in the team, reaching out to pull Helen back.
But Lex stopped her.
"No," he said firmly. "Let her. She can do it."
Everyone looked confused. Sending an intern out alone against hundreds of undead was pure madness.
But Lex calmly pulled out four thermal blankets from his spatial ring. "Put these on."
"Thermal blankets? Are you serious, Captain?" Khalid raised an eyebrow.
"Just fucking trust me," Lex replied curtly.
Reluctantly, they wrapped themselves in the blankets… and could only watch as Helen continued to walk forward.
---
From Helen's point of view…
The clatter of skeletal footsteps echoed from every direction. Hundreds of skeletons charged toward her, each one raising a weapon with feral bloodlust.
Helen stopped, her gaze icy.
The temperature around her dropped instantly. Dew on the grass froze in a heartbeat. The ground beneath her feet turned to ice, spreading outward like a living thing.
CRACK!
Within seconds, a radius of over a hundred meters had completely frozen. Skeletons' feet stuck to the ground, and the freezing crept up their bodies—slowly, but inevitably.
Helen's eyes didn't even flicker as she whispered a single word:
"Ice Spike."
CRACK!
Jagged ice spears burst from the ground at random angles, piercing through skeletons from below. The weaker, unranked monsters were shattered instantly. The 1-Star ones writhed, and the 2-Star and above were frozen stiff, unable to move.
It was like natural selection—only the strong survived, the weak were wiped out. And from the legion of hellish undead that had poured from the rift, only a dozen remained.
---
From a distance, Juan, Khalid, Ren, and Vera watched in disbelief, wrapped tightly in their thermal blankets.
"Is this… real?" Juan murmured. "She's literally a one-woman army! What the hell is her ability?"
"Frostborne. S-Class," Lex answered calmly.
Their eyes widened.
S-Class.
No further explanation needed. Everyone knew—this girl wasn't just some intern. She was a future monster. And they all thought the same thing:
"I need to get close to Helen."
Helen calmly took a step back and turned around.
"Uncle Lex, your turn—and your men's."
Lex smirked, drawing his sword. He raised a hand in command.
"All right. Let's smash these bony fucks!"
---
Meanwhile, on the other side of the forest…
The wind carried the stench of death. The towering trees swayed gently, as if bearing silent witness to the battle of life and death unfolding beneath their branches.
A skeleton—this one a knight-like undead—lunged from the mist. The rusted sword in its hand sliced toward Ronan's neck, hissing through the air.
He barely dodged in time.
The blade missed his skin by inches. But the next strike came without pause. The skeleton attacked like a tireless machine—slashing, thrusting, hacking with relentless fury.
Ronan twisted, rolled to the side, and got back to his feet. But not fast enough. The sword slashed across his left temple—blood flowed instantly, warm and sharp against his skin. Seconds later, another cut grazed his cheek. One swipe nearly severed his ear, sending blood gushing down.
It hurt. It burned. But that was the moment everything changed.
Blood dripped to the ground—and the world slowed down.
Ronan's heartbeat thundered in his ears. His breathing grew steady, more controlled. His vision sharpened. He began to see patterns—the way the skeleton lifted its sword, the slight rise of its shoulder before a swing, the subtle shift of its foot before a stab. Things he hadn't noticed before now stood out with vivid clarity.
He understood…
The skeleton attacked again—and this time, Ronan didn't dodge in panic. He stepped to the side calmly, almost gracefully. The blade missed. The second strike followed—Ronan was already on the other side. His eyes tracked every movement with uncanny precision, as if he were seeing a second into the future.
A wild grin spread across his bloodied face.
[New Combat Skill Acquired: Enhanced Perception]
[Description: Fighting through life-or-death pressure has unlocked a new layer of awareness. Enhanced Perception allows you to read enemy movements, detect attack patterns, and react instinctively with heightened clarity.]
"HAHAHA FUCK YEAH!"
Ronan laughed—a loud, raw, crazy laugh. Like someone who had just beat death in a fair fight.
He clenched his fists, blood still dripping down his face, adding a brutal intensity to the mad gleam in his eyes.
"Come on then," he whispered to the skeleton in front of him, "Let's fucking dance."
He charged forward, letting the skeleton strike first. The rusted blade came for him—Ronan was already at its side. He swung—his right fist slammed into the creature's jaw, snapping its skull sideways.
Crack!
The bones fractured, but didn't break.
Ronan didn't care.
He punched again. And again.
Left fist to the ribs. Right fist to the temple. Bits of bone chipped off, but the monster remained standing.
Ronan roared.
Punch after punch rained down on the skeleton. Blood from his own wounds coated his knuckles, staining the undead's cold, brittle body. His hands were torn open, flesh peeling.
CRACK!
One final blow to the chest hurled the skeleton backward—splintered, but not yet destroyed.
Suddenly, the system screen flashed again.
[New Combat Skill Acquired: Bonebreaker]
[Description: Fighting barehanded until your fists bleed has awakened a brutal force within you. Bonebreaker enhances your physical attacks against skeletal enemies, with a chance to destroy vital joints in a single hit.]
Ronan raised his hand—blood poured from his busted knuckles.
"Now…" he muttered.
He stepped forward, his shadow looming over the crawling skeleton.
"…let me show you what these fists can do."
One final punch, this time laced with Starflame, rocketed downward—obliterating the skeleton's skull.
[You killed a 1-Star Creature. +10 Skill Points]
Ronan grinned, panting heavily. He slumped against a nearby tree, catching his breath.
He wasn't lying—coming here had been the luckiest break of his life. From skill scrolls to soul stones, and now, he was sure he'd accumulated over 100 Skill Points.
"System interface."
[Name: Ronan Raylinde]
[Age: 18 years]
[Cultivation Base: Human Realm Level 3]
[Special Ability: Starflame (S-Class)]
[Unique Skills: Devil's Covenant]
[Combat Skills: Starflame Meteor+2, Vital Strike, Energy Channeling, Swift Dash, Enhanced Perception, Bonebreaker]
[General Skills: Home Cook, Beginner Cyclist, Speed Reading, Beginner Driver]
[Skill Points: 108]
[Skill Enhancement Scale: Level 1 requires 100 skill points]
"And now," he muttered with a grin, "which skill should I level up first?"