Chapter 1

Prologue: Monologue

The sergeant major of the militia training team didn't lie to me; the necessary experience can save your life in a critical moment. If it weren't for that month of training, I probably wouldn't have been able to avoid that fatal sword strike in my sleep just now. The sudden attack triggered a lightning-like alertness, jolting me awake from a deep sleep. When I opened my eyes, the sharp blade of a sword came into view, and a bone-chilling cold rose from the depths of my heart.

It was truly terrifying!

To be honest, I don't know how I reacted at that moment. Perhaps it was an instinct formed from long-term training. At the critical moment, I turned my head to the side, allowing the sword to graze my ear and plunge down.

At the critical moment—

Then I saw the black rose emblem of the Bromandor blooming on the cold, gleaming steel sword, set in a square iron plate. I was momentarily stunned before recognizing it, "Madara's army of the undead!" It felt like a bucket of cold water had been poured over me, waking me up completely. Damn, how could these things be here?

I clearly remember that I was on vacation at an old house in the countryside of Buchi, a property left by my grandfather. I had obtained the old man's permission to stay here and help manage the old house.

My mother is from Cardiego, which is probably the only noble bloodline in my body. However, my father was just an ordinary miller—he didn't even participate in the famous November War or receive the Candlelight Medal like my grandfather did. He was a simple, honest middle-aged man.

And I, I am an ordinary young man in the kingdom. My greatest dream is to join the military or go on an adventure to build a great fortune.

Perhaps I would find a beautiful and charming wife to spend the rest of my life with, how perfect!

But let's not get sidetracked. The fact that there was a terrifying undead by my bed trying to kill me made my mind a mess. Fortunately, the things the instructor taught me were still in my head, not lost amidst the chaos. In an instant, I recalled that my sword should be by the bed, but the skeleton wouldn't give me a chance to grab it—now I realize this is a bad habit, and next time I'll remember to put it under my pillow.

Of course, these thoughts only existed in my mind for a moment.

I instinctively rolled out of bed, pulling the skeletal figure standing by my bed down with me. At this moment, I remembered every word the instructor said during the first practical class:

Remember, these are the lowest-ranking soldiers of Madara, driven by pure soul fire. They move slowly, lack intelligence, and have weak strength—

But before I could finish my thoughts, a tremendous force surged from beneath me, as if I were suppressing not a skeleton but a bull. In short, an irresistible force threw me out, and I crashed into a cabinet on the side. I heard my bones and the bookshelf groan in unison, and the intense pain that spread through my body made me grit my teeth. However, I quickly shook my head to clear the dizziness—because I remembered what I needed to do. In my blurry vision, the skeleton had already stood up and was pulling the sword out of the bed.

Its movements were indeed stiff, but the strength was certainly not weak, right?

But I was about to turn and run because the 'thing' had already pulled out the sword and became a dangerous presence again. As for me, I knew I wasn't a match for its strength, or even three of me wouldn't be enough to face it—especially since I had no weapon in my hands—

My sword was just out of reach, and I believed this was just a coincidence because skeletons lack intelligence.

I rolled and crawled to the door, then couldn't help but curse my bad luck—because I saw the door to the hall below had been smashed open, and the cold moonlight poured in, creating a poetic scene. If not for the fact that it illuminated another white, skeletal figure.

I noticed that this lower-ranking existence of Madara had just entered—holding another steel sword, wearing Madara's standard chainmail, and a dark helmet.

But what made me most disheartened was when it raised its head, and the two red flames in its hollow eye sockets locked onto me.

It seemed to have seen me.

With a wolf in front and a tiger behind, this was not a good sign.

Respected Masha, I couldn't help but pray to the deity in my heart, I am only nineteen years old, I cannot die so pointlessly in a remote countryside.

Right, I haven't even confessed to the woman I love yet. Just thinking of that charming young merchant girl made my heart beat faster. Her family lived across from mine, and I couldn't let the girl I love be in danger.

I calmed down and tried to find a way out. My mind raced, and the sergeant major's words came to mind—

"Only by staying calm can you fight!"

This view aligned with my current situation, but I had no weapon in my hands. I couldn't fight a beast with my bare hands, could I? I panted and leaned against the wall, looking around in panic. Although this old house wasn't completely empty, there was nothing in the hall that could be used as a temporary weapon.

If my grandfather had been a noble, it would have been better. I had been to Lord Remington's house, where the main hall, five times the size of this one, had many shields, swords, and axes hanging on the walls. I would have easily found a suitable weapon there.

Moreover, my sword skills were quite good. I'm not boasting; the old sergeant had personally praised me, saying I was the best in our class.

Even that kid from the Breson family wasn't my match, though I always envied him for having a local official as a father. If my father had been a local official, I could have joined the guard team.

Of course, these thoughts were useless now. My sword was still separated from me by the skeleton soldier. Although they can't run, their walking speed is about the same as a normal person's, and their movements are somewhat stiff, but only slightly slower than an adult.

On the training ground, I bet I could make it spin around, but in this narrow space, if I rushed forward, I would probably get hit by a sword.

The two skeletons were getting closer, and the 'clack clack clack' of their footsteps felt like they were pounding in my heart, while my own heart beat like thunder, thumping loudly.

I was a bit at a loss—when the skeleton from the bedroom came out, it paused, then turned and quickly walked toward me. I instinctively took a step back, and my back hit something hard.

I then remembered that there should be an oil painting hanging behind me. This painting had been passed down from my grandfather's generation and was said to be a family heirloom. The lame man from Black Pepper Alley once offered ten gold coins for it, but my father refused.

My father was a stubborn old man, but I was different. If it weren't for this situation, I often thought that when I was in dire straits, I would sell this painting, buy a beautiful horse, and travel the continent with the merchant girl across the street.

But now there was no time for that. This family heirloom had to save my life. I turned around and grabbed the wooden frame of the painting, pulling it down. At this moment, I had no time to worry about whether it would be damaged—after all, this thing was worth at least ten gold coins, and I once