“You’ve been quiet,” Romulus murmured under his breath to Lightsbane as he strode with purpose through Blackstone.


    The sword pulsed a wave of apology in return.


    “Were you trying to avoid detection, or something, just in case?” Romulus prodded.


    A pulse of firm agreement came from the runeblade.


    “Yeah, that makes sense. Smart move.”


    Lightsbane pulsed again in proud acknowledgement.


    “I guess the only thing we can do is become strong enough to not need to worry, eh?”


    Once again, Lightsbane pulsed its fervent agreement and Romulus smiled wryly.


    With the mystery of his silent sword settled, his mind turned to other things: namely, his plan for the Necropolis—or rather, the complete lack of one, and his desire to correct that oversight.


    First and most importantly, he wasn’t going to conquer the keep, and he knew that.


    Based on what Lilith had told him, he would face trials within the Necropolis. What those were, how deadly they were, and what his chances of success were—well, those were questions he couldn’t answer immediately. The fact that the Dark Lady had not seemed overly concerned about his chances was reassuring, but the rumors he’d heard about the Necropolis during his short time in Blackstone had not been as comforting.


    If it weren’t for the fact he was worried about his [Brand of the Dark Lady] being discovered, he’d have probably taken several days to scout, glean information, and try to find an agent of the Divinarch to help him. As it was, he knew Ziggy had already figured something out—and the last thing he needed was a Priest or Cleric of a hostile Power seeing his Brand.


    He suspected that most people that braved the Necropolis had exactly zero chance against whatever was within. He was gambling almost everything on what the Dark Lady had told him when he freed her. The trials were his to attempt by right, based on what she’d said, and while he could just say ‘fuck this’ and walk away—the temptation born from the strength Lilith had promised kept him on course.


    He wasn’t about to run away at this stage of the game.


    Without the Divinarch’s promised empowerment, he had no real hope of achieving his goals within Eternus in any reasonable timeframe. How would he climb the levels and become a World Ranker if he didn’t take some risks? Worst case scenario, he was permadeath-killed and started all over again.


    It wasn’t great, but it was hardly an incontrovertible setback.


    After all, he’d just entered Eternus, despite the disproportionate time in-game.


    The sound of clicking, armored footsteps abruptly caught his ears, and he glanced behind him to see Isolde stalking along in his wake—her eyes trained determinedly on his back, and her expression set with stubborn resolve.


    Romulus sighed at the sight of her.


    At his side, Lightsbane pulsed its annoyance in kind.


    Congratulations, you have levelled a skill!


    Your [Perception] Skill is now Novice 2!


    Small mercies, he grumbled while choosing to ignore the future Duchess.


    “What will it take for her to leave me alone?” he muttered to himself, and received a sympathetic pulse from Lightsbane in response.


    He had no idea why Isolde was following him, but he had a feeling it was going to complicate things. Complication was the last thing he wanted, but that was life—in a game or out of it, things rarely went how anyone expected. The fact he’d gained a [Perception] level out of it was great, but whether it made up for whatever she did next remained to be seen.


    A few minutes of quiet walking later, the final hurdle loomed before him as he approached the Necropolis, noting the closed portcullis—which itself looked like a set of massive fangs when combined with the skullhead gatehouse—that barred further entry into the gothic citadel.


    When he finally approached the gates, the wardens on duty eyed him askance, looking across his simple scalemail to the lone sword on his hip, and his complete lack of anything resembling armor. He had expected that much, at least. He couldn’t blame their outright skepticism either, given what he’d been told about the Necropolis.


    He probably looked like a brave, but ultimately suicidal idiot to them.


    “Greetings!” he said in his most confident and charming voice, suddenly wishing he’d put more points into Charisma. “I’m here on a mission from His Grace, the Duke. He’s tasked me with resolving the issues inside the Necropolis.”


    “And why would the Duke trust such a task to a vagrant?” one of the wardens asked with bored bluntness.


    “I’m a Traveler,” Romulus corrected with an easy smile while ignoring his trepidation, and starting to reach for his License.


    Lightsbane pulsed an abrupt warning and then went completely quiet.


    “Of course you are, and I’m—”


    Whatever the man had been about to say was cut off as both he and his partner snapped to attention at the arrival of Isolde, and slammed their fists to their breastplates in salute. The noblewoman returned their greetings with a salute of her own, and Romulus could almost feel the moment her piercing blue eyes turned to focus on him.


    He swallowed a huff of impatience, and turned when she came up beside him.


    “You’re going to fail,” she declared immediately. “No one who’s ever gone in there has come out. No one.”


    “And why does that matter?” he asked with what he hoped was a casual tone. “If anything, it just means you’ll be rid of me and my reward from the Duke if I fail.”


    “Because you’re a Traveler!” Isolde said with surprising animation. “You’re the only Traveler we have heard of in centuries, maybe even longer. I cannot—that is to say, it would be dishonorable not to try to persuade you away from this. There is so much we could learn from you, and it would be a great pity for you to meet your demise on a fool’s errand.”


    “You certainly have a way with words, Isolde,” Romulus said while reaching up to rub his forehead. “So you want me to abandon the task your father, the Duke—” he emphasized the title “—set for me, that being to resolve the issue inside this keep, and walk away because, despite being a Traveler, it is apparently still futile.”


    Isolde nodded with a striking amount of certainty and affirmation.


    “Yes. You are too valuable a resource to throw your life away like this.”


    “I thought you said you wouldn’t impede me,” Romulus pointed out with an arched eyebrow.


    “I am not impeding you,” Isolde replied with a narrowing of her eyes. “I am simply trying to talk some sense into you. My father’s orders were clear, but that does not mean I cannot convince you to see reason.”


    “Maybe you’re just worried I might succeed?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “Besides, if it’s as impossible as you say, then once I enter the halls I’ll be out of your lovely golden hair forever.”


    The blonde blushed again as before when he used the word ‘lovely’, and then cursed under her breath. “Stop doing that,” she demanded. “I am not some—some common wench for you to make such comments toward.”


    Stolen story; please report.


    “No, but you are incredibly well-timed in your own way.”


    “Pardon—?”


    Romulus turned to the wardens instead of responding to her, and jerked his thumb at Isolde. “Is this proof enough for you?” he asked casually.


    Isolde blinked, looked between him and the Wardens, and then seemed to finally realise what he had been doing with a look of mixed alarm, anger, and embarrassment. The two Wardens, meanwhile, had been wisely silent until Romulus prompted them—and the one that had originally spoken nodded his acceptance.


    “Yes, Traveler. The Captain’s word is enough. We shall comply with the Duke’s wishes.”


    The knight turned toward the portcullis and shouted, “Open it!” a moment later, before resuming his quiet vigil while clearly avoiding Isolde’s fierce glare.


    Romulus smiled in self-satisfaction at the same time as his chat log pinged him.


    Congratulations, you have levelled a Skill!


    Your [Intrigue] Skill is now Novice 6!


    His grin was genuine when he saw the alert and looked at Isolde.


    As he’d hoped, the Captain couldn’t do anything about it if it was confirmed the Duke had directly ordered Romulus to enter the citadel. There was a fine line between trying to convince someone to change their mind and outright impeding her father''s commands.


    “Thank you for your help, Captain,” he said cheerfully.


    Isolde glared at him with rose-red cheeks. “You baited me!”


    “I did,” Romulus confirmed with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, but it had to be done.”


    “You are going to die here, Romulus,” Isolde repeated despite her frustration, and when she spoke there was an edge of genuine concern to her voice. “Nobody survives this place. You are going to die here, and we are all going to be poorer for the loss of your knowledge.”


    “Then I guess this is goodbye, Isolde,” he said with a wry smile. “Best of luck with everything, I suppose. If we truly don’t meet again, let me just say that you really are absolutely gorgeous,” Romulus finished with a cheeky grin.


    Isolde reddened from her cheeks to her ears, and he turned away to hurry through the open portcullis before she could do more than offer strangled sounds of rage and embarrassment.


    While he walked into the darkness of the passage, he glanced up at the entrance''s looming teeth and swallowed back a kernel of trepidation.


    “Not the most welcoming venue,” he muttered.


    Lightsbane pulsed with enthusiastic agreement, and Romulus snorted.


    He dared a final glance back when he was almost through, and spotted Isolde watching him with her brow furrowed in thought. He’d been worried the stubborn woman was about to follow him into the cursed palace.


    At least she took her own advice. He bore Lilith’s mark, but there was no telling what might have happened if Isolde had joined him—nor what sort of fate might have awaited her.


    “Just you and me now, Lightsbane,” he murmured as he patted the sword.


    The runeblade pulsed with eagerness, relief, and excitement in response.


    When Romulus emerged from the expansive gatehouse a few moments later, a low whistle escaped him at the scene beyond. A massive circular courtyard paved in white dominated the area, with a black obelisk nearly thirty feet high at its center and paired ascending stairways connecting to the far end of the flooring opposite the gate. The courtyard was large enough for almost thirty people walking side by side around its circumference, and it was framed by high walls connected to those branching out from the gate behind him.


    The twin stairways at the rear of the courtyard—each rising staggeringly high toward the Necropolis proper—beckoned to him, and Romulus walked toward them whilst marveling at the beauty of the architecture and the sheer immensity of the area.


    As he approached the leftmost stairwell, he took a moment to admire the design. The two stairwells, each built parallel, would have been one if not for the massive block of marble separating them—its length adorned by lethal spikes that forced passersby to choose one side or the other.


    Very likely, it was an anti-invasion design.


    “Bottleneck,” Romulus murmured as he started up the stairs—impressed by the mix of beauty and ruthless pragmatism inherent to the design. The entire entry area was a mix of elegance and brutalism, with a clear emphasis on defensibility given to the courtyard''s design.


    It took him a short while to ascend the tall stairs, and he took the time to appreciate the towering statue of a runeblade-wielding Death Knight standing vigil at the peak of the segregated stairwells as he walked.


    “God, their weapons and armor are so badass,” Romulus murmured to himself, and smiled when he received a pulse of happy agreement from Lightsbane.


    Clearly, the sword shared his view of the ancient, ominous warriors and their gothic aesthetic. He’d never thought the ‘hard goth’ route was for him, but he had to admit that there was a certain elegance to how the skulls and animal furs were displayed. It completed the look of the imposing bulk of carved marble.


    Once his climb was finished, Romulus stepped past the statue and strode along the new plateau in silence while looking around at a much smaller square courtyard. In contrast to the lower one, there was no obelisk or decoration to be seen—only the curved and tiered stairs leading further upward, toward the ominous pair of double doors offering entrance to the fortress proper.


    The doors were set into the Necropolis'' superstructure and stood behind a Roman-style overhang held by several large pillars. This, combined with the sun’s rotation from east to west, meant that no matter what time it was, the entrance to the fortress was shrouded in darkness.


    There was no hint of what lay beyond the open, immense, and forbidding doors.


    Romulus approached the entrance with passive use of long-honed breathing exercises, and schooled himself to calm. He reminded himself, in his mind, that it was a game he was playing. This wasn’t real life, no matter how real it felt. It was a pixelated facsimile of a different reality.


    A very, very convincing facsimile, but false all the same.


    The self-reassurance helped a little, but not as much as he’d have liked.


    “Ready Lightsbane?” he said into the grim silence while his left hand rested on his sword hilt for self-assurance.


    The runeblade pulsed its confidence at his question, and in doing so, helped fortify his own.


    Romulus breathed out his lingering anxiety and ascended the marble steps toward the fortress’ entrance. The doors were big enough for two elephants to enter while stacked on each other, and wide enough for twenty people across. His heart momentarily hitched in its rhythm when he considered why they would need to be that big, and then he shook his head.


    No Cave Trolls, no Balrogs, no Ancalagon, no Nazgul. It’s just like any other game.


    With a squaring of his shoulders, Romulus steeled his nerves and strode into the double doors with determination. The moment he breached the limits of the entrance, blue fire erupted from large black sconces set along the walls of what appeared to be a colossal entrance hall. Above his head, massive chandeliers burst into flame as well, casting azure light across the interior of the space.


    Romulus hesitated momentarily when the light erupted into being, but he dismissed his concerns almost immediately. If what he’d been told was true, he had far more to be worried about than a bit of fire. His footsteps echoed within the hall as he walked, and his eyes swept the interior in quiet appraisal. He noted the hints of intricate scrollwork, the beautiful artistry along the distant walls, the explicit depictions of Death, and what appeared to be more than a few murals and three-dimensional reliefs of Lilith offering a goblet to kneeling knights.


    The further he strode, the more he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and he was aware of a strange pressure settling over him. He could feel the presence of someone, or something, watching him, as clearly as if they were standing directly behind him. With instinct as much as the tingling of his [Perception] Skill, Romulus drew Lightsbane from its sheath—and he glanced around when the sword immolated its blade in black flames.


    “Something isn’t…”


    The sound of rattling bones abruptly cut through the isolating silence, and a ping sliced through his HUD.


    Congratulations, you have levelled a Skill!


    Your [Perception] Skill is now Novice 3!


    From isolated alcoves and hidden passages, Romulus spotted the arrival of several skeletal warriors, bedecked in a mix of rusted plate, eroded chainmail, and rotted leather. Three, five, seven, nine, twelve skeletons emerged—each one with azure flames burning in place of their eyes. Romulus felt his heartbeat spike, and abruptly, a sense of comfortable normalcy settled upon his shoulders.


    This was what he wanted. This was what he had expected from Eternus Online.


    With instincts honed from a lifetime of gaming, he used [Examine] on them.


    Name: Reanimated Skeleton


    Race: Undead


    Tier: 2


    Level: 25


    Description: Reanimated Skeletons are among the most rudimentary of risen servants, and are often employed en masse as disposable foot soldiers by Necromancers. While non-threatening individually, their strength lies in numbers and an inexhaustible stamina.


    Special Effect(s): Like all reanimated undead, Skeletons possess a ‘Binding’ instead of Health, and will fall apart once their binding is sufficiently damaged.


    The information was thoroughly rudimentary, but his eyes didn’t miss the red highlight of their level. It didn’t require genius deduction to know that the System implied they were beyond his current capability.


    To that, Romulus just smiled and drew his sword.


    “Hey, Lightsbane, just out of curiosity, how easily can a Revenant Runeblade damage an arisen undead’s binding?”


    In response, his sword pulsed with savage assurance.


    He felt a vicious smile spread across his lips when the runeblade answered and settled the weapon into a two-handed grip. That was all he needed to know.


    “Game on,” he declared savagely.


    Romulus charged with his sword held high.