In the dimly lit world of the Undead Mountains, Jason stood with an air of triumph, his gaze fixed on the shimmering text that floated before him. The words heralded his ascension from an elementary explorer to intermediate one. An achievement had brought a tangible surge in his capabilities. The newfound ability, "Aura Vision," promised to enhance his perception and intuition in these unfamiliar terrains by an astounding 300%.
A smile spread across Jason's face as he read further. The map of the Undead Mountains, a treacherous landscape he had dared to chart, now bore the mark of his exploration—10% unveiled. But it was the gift of "Aura Vision" that truly widened his eyes in wonder. No sooner had he acknowledged this gift than the world around him transformed. His sensitivity to the environment heightened to unprecedented levels, allowing him to perceive even the faintest traces of undead energy that permeated the air.
It was as if a new dimension had unfolded before him. The corpses that littered the ground, remnants of monsters fallen, were no longer mere obstacles. They radiated with a weak undead power, merging into the ether and flowing like a spectral torrent through the dense forest, weaving into the very heart of the Undead Mountains.
Jason observed the ethereal energies around him, fascinated. He noticed how his own body interacted with these forces, exchanging energy in a continuous cycle that connected him to the vast reservoir of undead power that filled this land. This revelation was not just academic; it granted him the insight to see the unseen. The flow of undead power was not random but followed patterns that could reveal hidden dangers or opportunities.
Armed with this knowledge, Jason nudged his moose forward, his senses alert to the pulsations of power around him. A sudden movement, a distortion in the ambient energy, and he reacted with lightning speed. His arm shot out, and from his fingertips sprung a web of white spider silk, ensnaring a creature camouflaged among the treetops.
The creature—a grotesque blend of snake and bird—screeched in surprise as it was yanked from its hiding spot and into Jason's unyielding grasp. He named it the "Snake Bird" in his mind as he crushed it, its body disintegrating into particles of dark energy. Retrieving the magic stone from its remains, he noted its value with a nod of satisfaction before storing it away.
But Jason's eyes were already drawn to the horizon, where the essence of undead power grew denser, more foreboding. Ahead lay the heart of the Undead Mountains, a domain where the river of undead energy swelled into an ocean, teeming with creatures of death.
Beneath the shadowed canopy of the Undead Mountains, where the earth itself bled heat from its molten heart, Jason ventured deeper, where only the undead dared to tread. This realm, fueled by magma's wrath, was a forge for the resurrected, a place where ordinary life withered, leaving only those animated by dark magics to roam.
In this desolate landscape, even the lesser of the undead, such as the snake birds with their dense aura of death, dared to challenge Jason, emboldened by the mountain's corrupting influence. It was a clear omen of the formidable and aggressive monstrosities that lay in wait deeper within.
Pressing forward, Jason guided his moose to a vast valley that marked the threshold between the outer realms of the Undead Mountains and its perilous heart. The valley, shrouded in an eerie silence, promised passage to even more dangerous territories.
However, his path was barred not by the natural obstacles of the land but by two skeletal figures, their eye sockets ablaze with haunting blue flames. Clad in remnants of their past lives—tattered clothes, leather armor, and worn boots—they stood armed with iron swords and round shields that gleamed with an uncanny polish, an unsettling sign of their continued vigilance beyond death.
These skeletal monstrosities, once mercenaries and warriors in life, now bound to an eternal service in death. Unlike the mindless undead, these skeletons retained the martial prowess of their former lives, coupled with the relentless endurance bestowed by their cursed existence. Their presence here, polishing their weapons with care, suggested a level of sentience that was profoundly disconcerting.
Jason's eyes narrowed as he observed the cross insignias on their shields and armor, symbols of the once-famed Cross Mercenary Group. Memories of tales heard long ago surfaced in his mind, of a band of mercenaries whose renown once eclipsed even the formidable Eagle Group. Yet, their ambition had led them into the depths of these mountains in pursuit of the Skeleton General, culminating in their tragic end a decade prior. All but a few of their leaders perished, their bodies now enslaved to the very enemy they sought to defeat.
As Jason assessed the skeletal sentinels before him, they widened their stance, readying themselves for combat. The silent message was clear: any attempt to pass would be met with violent opposition.
In that moment, the air before Jason shimmered with text, outlining his predicament with stark clarity:
[The Skeleton Knight, seeking the mysteries that lie at the heart of the Undead Mountains, finds his path obstructed by the minions of the Skeleton General. A choice looms before him: engage in battle for the right to pass or yield to the will of the undead army.]
[Mission: Crossing the valley! ]
[Option 1: If I don't give up, I would not be me! Note: Put down your weapons and surrender, follow the skeleton soldiers to meet the skeleton general, surrender and fight for him. Difficulty: E, Reward: Obtain the achievement "A Good Dog"]
[Option 2: A man was born between heaven and earth, how can he live in depression for a long time? Notes: Kill two skeleton soldiers and fight through the valley and deep into the mountains. Difficulty: C, Reward: Experience +100, Strength +0.5, forging equipment "Ring of Royal Power"]
[Note: Killing the undead who mastered martial arts can obtain their martial arts experience during their lifetime]
The valley, now a battlefield, awaited Jason's decision. With a determined glance at the skeletal warriors, he knew there was only one path for him: forward, through the fray, to uncover the secrets that the Undead Mountains held deep within their fiery depths.
The first was a route of surrender, an offer to lay down arms and serve under the banner of the skeleton generall.p The second, a path of resistance and valor, beckoned Jason to assert his place in the world by battling through the valley's guardians, promising not just survival but the acquisition of strength and the legendary "Ring of Royal Power."
The notion of surrender was anathema to Jason. How could he, a being of flesh and blood, born under the vast skies, concede to a life of servitude beneath the heel of undeath? The Ring of Royal Power, a relic whispered to contain the essence of dominion and the ability to absorb the martial prowess of its fallen foes, called to him. Its allure was undeniable, promising not just power but a deeper connection to the martial arts of ages past.
With resolve steeling his heart, Jason gripped his spear with unshakeable determination. The skeletal soldiers before him, once proud warriors of the Cross Mercenary Group, now stood as the final barrier to his quest. "This valley shall not be my grave," Jason declared, his voice a bastion of defiance against the silent howl of the undead.
As his carrion moose bellowed a war cry, Jason charged forward, the gap between them closing with the inevitability of fate. The skeleton soldiers, their blue-flamed gazes locked onto Jason, responded in kind, their silent roars a macabre mimicry of life as they brandished their weapons with haunting proficiency.
But Jason, fueled by the promise of growth and the whispers of the Ring of Royal Power, was undeterred. With the precision of a seasoned warrior, he thrust his spear forward, a lightning strike that shattered shields and skulls alike, quenching the unnatural flames that animated his foes. As the skeletal soldiers crumbled, their essence condensed into soul crystals and old iron swords, tangible rewards for Jason's bravery.
Gathering the spoils with a web of spider silk, Jason could not help but reflect on the wealth that lay hidden within these mountains, guarded by creatures like the ones he had just vanquished. The lure of riches was a siren call to many, but for Jason, the true prize lay in the mastery of his art and the enhancement of his gear.
As he absorbed the martial knowledge of the fallen soldiers, his panel flickered to life, chronicling his gains: a noticeable increase in his sword skill, fighting prowess, and even a nascent understanding of archery. Each step forward in his martial journey was marked by these small victories, each skill point a testament to his growing legend.
With the valley behind him and the heart of the Undead Mountains ahead, Jason knew that the challenges to come would be greater still. Yet, with each encounter, he grew stronger, more adept, and ever closer to the mysteries and treasures that lay buried in the depths of this cursed land. The journey was fraught with peril, but for Jason, the promise of power and the pursuit of mastery over the martial arts drove him onward, deeper into the unknown.