What is the meaning of existence?
Ask this question to a human, and you'll get every kind of answer imaginable—noble, laughable, tragic, shameful—an endless variety.
For Pask, it had once been revenge. And now? Best not to ask—if you did, you might drive him mad.
As a skeleton warrior after his lord's fall, he had a few choices: submit to the undead who defeated his lord, end his own life, or—very rarely—pursue revenge. Pask did none of these in the usual way. He neither submitted nor ended himself.
He wandered the Bone Lands, performing the one duty a skeleton warrior owed to his lord: carrying out the command he had been given—"Stay alive."
The lord who gave that order had died soon after at the hands of another skeleton lord—the previous Great Skeleton Lord, a legend who had unified the Bone Lands in just 175 years. To Pask, that being was both terrifying and hateful. The fear never erased the hatred, so he chose revenge.
But in the end, he was a joke. Time and again, his reckless attempts ended with him captured. If the other had simply killed him, it might have been a mercy—but no, he didn't. Not only did he spare Pask, he did so repeatedly, for one reason: he admired Pask's loyalty. He wanted Pask to submit to him.
It was laughable. Pask was a skeleton warrior through and through, and though he could serve a skeleton lord, it would never be the one who had killed his lord.
He was stubborn, but so was that other skeleton. For three or four years, Pask never stopped trying to assassinate him, and the other never stopped trying to make him submit.
It was a stalemate—until the day Pask realized he lacked the strength to take revenge. He decided to leave the Bone Lands for a place called the Domain of Chaos. But before departing, he heard a rumor: a "mysterious legion" was going to destroy the greatest legend in the Bone Lands' history.
Pask could hardly remember his reaction, but he knew that as soon as he heard it, he rushed back. It took him three full days to reach the "Bone City" where that skeleton dwelled—only to arrive too late.
Before him lay not ruins, but a giant crater.
And standing there, Pask felt it again—that same feeling as when he'd lost his own lord. That skeleton was dead. His lord's vengeance was fulfilled… yet why did he feel no joy?
He stayed by the crater for three days, then began wandering the Bone Lands again—endlessly, aimlessly.
One day, he encountered a little skeletal horse. He tilted his head, watching it for a long time, until the impatient creature tried to leave. That was the first time in ages Pask decided to do something. He lunged, using his exceptional acceleration technique and elite-tier strength to easily capture it.
Not long after, he crossed paths with Felis's squad.
He hadn't planned to kill Felis—though now, that point was moot, because another skeleton had arrived.
It wasn't particularly strong—just a Level 4 skeleton. But it was a rare variant: a sword-and-shield skeleton.
Pask had lived since the previous era; he'd seen every kind of skeleton. A mere sword-and-shield variant shouldn't impress him. Yet this one was different. As it walked toward him, sword angled, shield raised, Pask felt… a little tense.
Too long without fighting? Getting pressure from just a Level 4?
Pask released Felis, tightening his grip on his greatsword, eyes locked on the slowly advancing skeleton.
"You here to die, Level 4 sword-and-shield?"
"My master's orders: take him back. You leave, and I won't kill you." Orlis didn't slow, sparing Pask only a glance before fixing his gaze on Felis.
"Master? So you're not a lord. And he isn't either? Now I'm curious—what kind of skeleton is your master?"
Pask's voice was guarded, but he spoke the truth. He'd seen plenty of newly risen lords lately—some strong, but few with any real subordinates. None had powerful variant skeletons like Orlis and Felis.
Orlis ignored him, walking straight toward Felis as if Pask didn't exist.
"Honestly, I've never seen such an arrogant skeleton… especially one so weak. Really makes me itch to smash you."
Pask thought maybe beating him—shattering that flimsy arrogance—would be fun. He began twirling his greatsword, ghostly white flames staring straight at Orlis. Then—he stomped down, exploding forward at terrifying speed, closing in on Orlis's flank in an instant.
"With that attitude, I bet no one's ever given you a proper beating!"
"Shield Bash!"
Orlis's eye-flames flared. His shield rose, and he lunged with shocking speed—faster than Pask.
Crack!
Caught off guard, Pask barely got his greatsword up before the blow sent him flying.
"Not bad—fast, huh?"
But Pask was no ordinary Level 5 greatsword skeleton. He landed firmly, unshaken—but now he was angry.
He planted his sword, no longer relying on speed. Step by step, he closed in, greatsword raised high, then surged forward.
"Earth-Splitting Slash!"
His massive bone sword flared with earthen light as it came crashing down.
Crack! Orlis was knocked back three meters.
"Why dodge?" Pask was already in pursuit, greatsword sweeping down again and again—seven strikes in three seconds, each at Earth-Splitting Slash's level. The final blow drove Orlis into the ground by nearly half a meter.
"Still feeling cocky now?" Pask grinned, pinning Orlis down.
"Done?" Orlis's shield braced the greatsword. He looked up calmly.
"What?"
"My turn." Orlis's eye-flames flared, and for the first time, his greatsword moved—sweeping hard.
Crack!
Unprepared, Pask was knocked away.
"No way—your bones can withstand that much force?!"
Pask looked up, eyes narrowing as he saw Orlis's flames blaze brighter.
"This is bad… he's about to level up!"