The eastern wall of the Cathedral loomed over them, a sheer cliff of black stone slick with condensation.
Unlike the main gate, there was no crowd here. No screaming players, no armored extortionists. Just the silence of the grave.
Literally.
Arthur crouched behind a weeping angel statue, its stone face eroded by acid rain. Ahead of them lay the Cathedral's graveyard. It was a sprawling mess of overturned headstones, open pits, and dead, gnarled trees that clawed at the sky like skeletal hands.
"The compass points through there?" Silas whispered, his voice barely audible over the wind.
Arthur nodded. He checked the Old Navigator's Compass. The gemstone needle was vibrating violently, pointing straight into the center of the boneyard.
"Straight to the Crypts," Arthur confirmed.
Silas grimaced. "I hate crypts. Tight spaces. Bad for bows."
"I thought 'The Underground' veterans could handle anything," Arthur whispered back, unable to resist a jab.
Silas shot him a glare. "We handle it. Doesn't mean we like it. Keep your head down."
They moved forward.
The ground here was soft, squelching under their feet. It smelled of wet earth and decay, a heavy, cloying scent that stuck in the back of the throat.
[Zone Entered: The Forgotton Boneyard] [Danger Level: Moderate] [Environmental Debuff: Desecrated Ground (Health regeneration disabled).]
Arthur saw the notification and stiffened. "No passive regen here."
"Don't get hit then," Silas muttered.
They navigated through the maze of tombstones. The fog swirled around their ankles, hiding the ground.
Click.
It was a sharp, dry sound. Like two stones hitting together.
Arthur froze. "Silas."
"I heard it."
Click-clack.
The sound multiplied. It came from the open graves to their left. Then from behind a mausoleum to their right.
From the fog, figures emerged.
They weren't fleshy like the Butcher or ghostly like the Hollow Men. They were stripped clean. Bleached white bones held together by dark, necrotic magic. They wore rusted scraps of chainmail and wielded broken swords and shovels.
[Monster Identified: Crypt Stalker] [Level: 3] [Type: Undead/Skeleton] [Resistance: Piercing (High), Slashing (Moderate)] [Weakness: Blunt (High), Holy (Extreme)]
"Skeletons," Arthur hissed. "They resist arrows."
Silas cursed. He drew his bow anyway. "I aim for the spine. It shatters if you hit it hard enough."
There were six of them. Three blocking the path ahead, three flanking from the tombstones.
"They're encircling us," Arthur realized. "Basic tactics."
"They retain muscle memory from when they were soldiers," Silas explained, nocking an arrow. "Go for the legs. Break their foundation."
The Stalkers charged.
They were fast, their movements jerky and unnatural. The lead skeleton swung a rusted shovel at Arthur's head.
Arthur ducked. The wind of the swing ruffled his hair.
He didn't stab this time. Stabbing a skeleton was useless; the poker would just pass through the ribcage.
He swung the iron poker like a baseball bat.
CRACK!
The heavy iron connected with the skeleton's femur.
[Critical Hit! (Blunt Weakness)] [Damage: 38]
The bone shattered. The skeleton collapsed sideways, its leg gone. It clawed at the dirt, trying to drag itself toward him.
Arthur didn't give it the chance. He brought the poker down on its skull.
SMASH.
The skull exploded into dust.
[Target Neutralized: Crypt Stalker (Level 3)] [Experience Gained.]
"Blunt weapons!" Arthur shouted. "It's super effective!"
"I'm not carrying a hammer, kid!" Silas yelled back.
He fired an arrow. It hit a skeleton in the ribs, passing clean through and embedding in a tree.
The skeleton didn't even slow down. It raised a broken sword.
Silas threw the bow over his shoulder and drew the short sword from his belt. He parried the skeleton's strike, sparks flying.
But another Stalker was coming up behind him.
"Silas! Six o'clock!" Arthur warned.
Arthur charged. He couldn't reach Silas in time to attack, so he did the only thing he could think of.
He threw his shoulder into a tombstone, toppling it.
The heavy stone slab crashed down, crushing the flanking skeleton beneath its weight.
[Environment Kill.] [Experience Gained.]
Silas spun around, kicking the skeleton he was fighting in the chest. It stumbled back. Silas reversed his grip on the sword and smashed the pommel—the heavy metal end—into the skeleton's skull.
It wasn't as effective as the poker, but it worked. The skull cracked.
"Pommel strike," Silas grunted. "Improvised blunt damage."
Two down. Four left.
But more clicking sounds echoed from the fog.
"Respawn," Silas warned. "Or reinforcements. We need to move. Where's the entrance?"
Arthur glanced at the compass. It pointed to a large, ivy-covered mausoleum at the center of the yard.
"There!" Arthur pointed.
Between them and the mausoleum stood three Stalkers. One was larger than the others, wearing a tarnished bronze helmet.
[Monster Identified: Crypt Guard (Elite)] [Level: 4] [Type: Undead]
"Elite," Arthur said, his grip sweating on the poker. "Level 4."
"I'll take the big one," Silas said. "You clear the trash."
Silas didn't wait. He sprinted forward, moving with a speed Arthur couldn't hope to match. He slid under the Guard's swing, slashing at the knee joints with his sword.
Arthur faced the other two.
[Stamina: 45/100]
He was getting tired. The lack of food, the cold, the constant fighting. It was taking a toll.
One Stalker lunged with a rusty dagger.
Arthur parried with the poker, the metal ringing loud in the night. The vibration traveled up his arm, numbing his hand.
The second Stalker swung a heavy club.
Arthur rolled backward.
Vital Strike. He needed to use it. But he only had enough Stamina for maybe two uses before he hit exhaustion.
He had to make them count.
He waited.
The dagger skeleton lunged again.
Arthur side-stepped. He activated the skill.
[Vital Strike] [Stamina: -10]
The red reticle appeared on the skeleton's neck vertebrae.
Arthur swung.
CRUNCH.
The head flew off, spinning into the darkness. The body collapsed.
[Target Neutralized.] [Experience Gained.]
One left for him.
The club skeleton roared—a soundless rattle of its jaw—and swung.
Arthur didn't have room to dodge. He raised the poker to block.
CLANG!
The force drove him to one knee. His health bar flickered.
[HP: 88%]
The skeleton raised the club for a killing blow.
Arthur looked up. He saw the rusted ribs, the empty eye sockets.
"Not today," he snarled.
He drove the tip of the poker into the skeleton's pelvis, hooking it. He yanked back with all his Strength (F).
The skeleton lost its balance, stumbling.
Arthur stood up and swung downward with everything he had left.
SMASH.
The skeleton shattered.
[Target Neutralized.] [Experience Gained.] [Level Up!]
The golden light washed over him again, refilling his Health and Stamina. The fatigue vanished.
[Level: 3] [Attribute Points: 1] [Skill Points: 1]
Arthur wasted no time.
[Strength: F -> F+]
He felt the surge of power. His muscles knitted tighter, denser.
He reached for his belt and pulled out the [Sharpened Butcher's Cleaver].
It felt... right. The weight was no longer dragging him down; it felt balanced. An extension of his arm.
"Silas!" Arthur shouted.
The Ranger was dancing around the Elite Guard. The Guard was slow, but its armor was thick. Silas's sword was chipping against the bronze.
"A little help!" Silas yelled, dodging a massive shield bash.
Arthur charged.
"Switch!" Arthur commanded.
Silas didn't argue. He backflipped away, drawing his bow mid-air.
Arthur slid into the gap.
The Elite Guard looked down at him. It raised its rusted sword.
Arthur raised the Cleaver.
"Let's see if this thing cuts," Arthur whispered.
He swung.
The Cleaver met the Guard's shield.
CLANG-SHUNK.
Unlike the poker, which would have bounced off, the heavy, sharpened blade bit deep into the rotting wood and bronze of the shield.
Arthur didn't stop. He yanked the blade free and swung again, this time aiming for the shoulder gap in the armor.
Vital Strike.
[Stamina: -10]
The Cleaver whistled through the air.
CRUNCH.
It shore through the chainmail, through the clavicle, and deep into the ribcage.
[Critical Hit!] [Damage: 65]
The Elite Guard staggered.
"Finish it!" Silas shouted from behind.
An arrow flew past Arthur's ear, striking the Guard in the eye socket. The silver tip flared.
The Guard flailed, blinded and broken.
Arthur stepped in, pivoting his hips, and delivered a horizontal slash to the neck.
The heavy blade decapitated the Elite Guard cleanly.
The helmeted skull thudded into the mud.
[Target Neutralized: Crypt Guard (Elite)] [Experience Gained.] [Party Bonus Applied.]
Arthur stood panting, the Cleaver dripping with black sludge.
"Nice weapon," Silas said, walking up and retrieving his arrow. "Crude. But effective."
Arthur wiped the blade on the Guard's tabard. "It gets the job done."
He quickly looted the Elite.
[Item Acquired: Old Bronze Key] [Item Acquired: Guard's Pauldron (Damaged)]
"The Key," Arthur held it up. "For the mausoleum."
They walked to the massive stone doors of the central crypt. Arthur inserted the key into the rusted lock. It turned with a heavy clunk.
He pushed the doors open.
Inside, stone steps spiraled down into darkness.
"The Catacombs," Silas noted. "They connect to the Cathedral basement."
Arthur checked the compass. It pointed down.
"Ladies first," Arthur gestured.
Silas rolled his eyes but took point, drawing a glow-stick from his inventory and cracking it. A green light flooded the stairwell.
They descended.
Behind them, the fog of the graveyard swirled, sealing the entrance.
Arthur checked his stats.
[Name: Arthur] [Level: 3] [Strength: F+] [Weapon: Sharpened Butcher's Cleaver]
He was getting stronger. But as the heavy stone doors slammed shut above them, plunging them into the suffocating silence of the underground, Arthur knew the tutorial was far from over.
The Crypts were not empty. And down here, no one could hear you scream.