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Necrotic mana seeped from Jay’s palm, the insidious gas trailing into bones and melting them into another bone plate.

Jay had adjusted the design slightly, adding a slight triangle point at the bottom of the rectangular shape.

It was purely for aesthetic purposes since each redesigned plate only gave one additional health, but at he looked across the twenty plates he’d crafted, it pleased his eyes, making it worth the effort.

Crafting all twenty took up the early part of his morning. He wanted Asra healed so they could leave, but he doubted Hegatha was awake, though he couldn’t blame her—he certainly didn’t want to be.

(Red, armor your guardians.) He ordered, pointing to the plates he made.

Red nodded and gazed into the still swamp water. A ripple surged from the depths before the two guardian skeletons sprung out with a splash, scrambled ashore and lined up at Red’s side.

Jay watched quietly as Red grabbed the plates and began to meld it onto their bodies. It welded one to their upper arms and lower arms, upper and lower leg, and one on each side of their rib cage.

They still needed plating for the backs of their bodies, arms and legs, but Jay didn’t think these stalwart guardians would entertain the idea of backing down and turning to flee. Even if they could think.

While the guardian’s weren’t his hunters or monster slayers, and hadn’t done much fighting, Jay chose to armor them first because, combined with Red, they were his last line of defense.

As for Heavy, his heavily-armored tank, he envisioned it as the first of his heavy infantry, a moving fortress of unyielding bone, and he would be crafting much thicker plates for it and personally armor it, sealing every bone and gap under thick plates—all in good time.

When Red was finished Jay looked over the little guardians. Rather than being meager creations of some corrupt force, unguided and unthinking, they resembled formidable soldiers of a skeletal army. Each plate added to their striking grandeur, giving an air of strength. The clinking of bones against plating added to their unwavering presence, along with the gaze of their ethereal eyes. Jay could already envision an army of them marching in unison, creating a battle march song with each step; a death knell resounding with each step. And now, Jay held authority over them.

In each hollow eye, he didn’t see a trace of mindlessness or submission, but a fierce loyalty bound to his will.

(Good.) Jay waved his hand, and Red sent them back to guarding the bridge.

In their march, Jay saw an embodiment of his own determination, and a culmination of his mastery over necromancy—in fact wherever he looked he was beginning to see it. The sword and shield he wielded, his bone helmet, the one-room house, and the warriors that diligently served him.

Coincidentally, Archers returned with another load of mushrooms and dropped them off by the fire—but Jay caught a glimpse of something.

(Archers, come here.) He ordered, and the skeleton sprang over.

As he scrutinized its bones, a curious expression crept on his face, his eyes narrowing as he observed something clinging to them, and not just the stains of black marsh water. In the places where the gray bones met the blue bones, a peculiar mold had taken root, clinging to the cracks.

The mold, a delicate network of filaments, spread across the nearby bone surface in intricate patterns. Its color mirrored the abyssal black water, but as firelight gleaned over, it had a subtle red sheen.

Jay guessed it hadn’t effected the other skeletons since they weren’t on mushroom duty, and the mold seemed to only grow at the border of the blue and gray bones, and like a silent invader it had found a home within Archers, embracing the decay of death.

Jay marveled at its paradoxical beauty; it was a sign of death, spreading its tendrils out and consuming, and life, taking a defiant root in the most unexpected places. Archers and its mold were like an odd symbiosis of life and death—but it had to be snuffed out since it was consuming his skeleton.

Jay pointed to the fire, but before giving Archers the order to walk through the dwindling flames he paused and looked at Archers. The skeleton wasn’t responding to the mold at all, so he checked it health. I think you should take a look at

No damage? He thought, scratching his chin and lowering his pointing hand.

Jay glanced into Archers’ eyes, then at the mold, and his curiosity got the best of him.

If it’s not harmful, I’ll see what becomes of it. He thought.

Jay stored the mushrooms away, but before he could send Archers off to gather more, Blue came rushing to his side and kneeled before him.

(Blue? What are you doing?) Jay asked telepathically.

Blue stood and stared awkwardly at Jay for a moment, but then it raised a skeletal arm. Its bony fingers gave a rattle as all but one curled into a fist. Blue was pointing into the fog. North.

Jay’s eyes narrowed, (Your scout found something?)

Blue nodded its skull and raised its sword. Jay’s eyes widened, he bolted over to his throne and jumped in the chair.

(Summon the skeletons. Get us ready to leave.) Jay abruptly ordered before closing his eyes.

Using the [Host] skill was harder for an unnamed skeleton, but Jay still sensed it clearly as it was the only one much further to the north, and with a willful push, he entered its black and white vision.

***

A great white wall of fog loomed imposingly over a mossy plane of rocks. Unmoving and silent, it shrouded its depths in shadows. A palpable stillness filled its heavy air, broken only by an occasional whispering breeze that stole licks of mist, teasing glimpses of whatever lurked inside.

Even the simplest and most brutish creatures didn’t dare venture in, their instincts stopping them from setting foot closer to the shadowy featureless fog, which toyed with perception and made clarity dissolve into a hazy unknown.

Yet, despite the hesitation of others, a figure emerged from the heart of the fog. From the shifting mist, its materialized—a solitary presence defying the unknown. It moved with purpose, its glowing green gaze fixed on its duty.

Tendrils of fog latched to its bones as it stepped out of the white wall and it gazed across the mossy plane. And after scanning for threats its skeletal body dashed forward, hiding by a mossy rock before continuing its journey.

Sent there as a scout, Blue’s sub-skeleton moved with an instinctive fluid-like grace as it darted between rocks and kept its presence to a minimum, navigating through the lowest points of the mossy carpet.

It was ready to bolt to the next jagged rock, but froze. A tremor ran through the ground. Its skull creaked around, clicking as it swiveled, its shade vision offering up the contents of the shadows around it.

Another tremor spread through the ground, causing it to crouch low. But, knowing its mission, it crawled atop the rock it hid behind to get a better look, and scanned the horizon.

Another tremor resounded as a low groan in the earth, and in the distance a plume of dirt shot up. The figures that caused it were far away, appearing like tiny dots—but they were close enough to identify, and their forms were unmistakable. Humans.

It held its body closely to the rock, hiding its presence as it monitored them, and Blue was instantly aware of its finding.