Great

Clinton ran, Clinton won the race, Clinton kissed a girl, Clinton died.
What a truly miserable way to die.
Clinton woke up to see himself before an angel.
“You are now before judgement”.
“For being an arrogant prick, a womanizer who slept without remorse with your mate’s girlfriends, and for 999+ other sins that you have committed, you have been sentenced to life outside hell”.
“You have been sentenced to lifetime imprisonment in Planet #2122 as a low-tier undead in a Dungeon”.
And so, Clinton’s fate was sealed in the most miserable way possible.
Beep!
{You have unlocked reincarnation curse: Miserable Undead System!}
‘Oh boy!’

Death of an Arrogant Prick; I Reincarnated as a Skeleton?

The Dreadjaw encampment was chaos carved into order. Rows of tents made from beast hides and bone stretched along the uneven valley floor, surrounded by spikes, glyph wards, and pits lined with iron-tipped stakes. 


Fire burned at every corner, warriors sparred in blood-soaked rings, and the drums of war thundered endlessly. 


The stench of sweat, blood, and magic tainted the air. 


Clinton walked through it all, led by the shaman. 


All eyes turned to him, the skeleton cloaked in tattered robes, marked by silence and aura. 


Some hissed, some snarled, some even dropped to a crouch, unsure whether to pounce or kneel. But none attacked. The presence of the shaman warded them, for now. 


They reached the center of the encampment. 


There, a crude throne carved from the ribcage of a mountain wyrm loomed atop a raised stone platform. There sat the chieftain. 


War Realm [7]