Third Trial

[[ Wake up! ]]

Riven gasped, bolting upright, his eyes wild as he scanned his surroundings.

[[ Finally! I was calling you for ages. ]]

A groan of relief escaped him as he realized the shadows were gone—he was still alive. But what the hell had happened to him? His chest ached as he struggled to his feet. He hesitantly lifted his shirt, half-expecting to find a gaping hole.

But there was nothing.

[[ You're welcome. Fixing you and cleaning up the blood was quite difficult, you know. ]]

"Who the hell are you?" Riven rasped, his voice hoarse. His head throbbed, a dull pain pulsing from the countless system windows that flooded his vision.

[[ I'm your system. I upgraded when you became a first-circle mage. ]]

"Bullshit." His teeth clenched. "You're that administrator—that dark thing that tore through my chest."

[[ Look, it's too complicated to explain right now. I'll tell you later. ]]

"Eh?! Tell me now!" Riven snapped, irritation flaring.

[[ You'll be late for the third trial if you keep arguing. ]]

Riven's breath caught. "Wha—?" He spun around, eyes widening as he saw the sun cresting the horizon. "Shit!"

He bolted, yanking on his new uniform as he sprinted out the door, not even bothering to close it behind him. The halls were empty as he rushed down the stairs and toward the main courtyard.

Only when he spotted a group of students gathered near the academy entrance did he exhale in relief.

He made it.

The courtyard was packed, a sea of anxious and excited faces. His breathing was ragged, muscles sore from the mad dash. He mentally reminded himself that he need to start working out after today.

"Good morning, students."

The voice was unmistakable. The same instructor from yesterday stood before them, his crimson robes billowing, just as imposing as before.

"Those of you standing here have successfully passed the first and second trials. That alone is an accomplishment—but it does not secure your place at the academy." His sharp gaze swept over them. "Today's trial is the final assessment. It will test your comprehension ability."

He turned away and raised his hands. A brilliant white glow radiated from his palms as intricate magic circles formed in the air. Riven's eyes narrowed. Even at a glance, he could tell that the complexity of that spell was immense.

What circle was this guy? Fourth? Fifth?

"Once you step through this portal," the instructor continued, "you will be transported to separate rooms where an academy staff member will oversee your trial."

With a final flourish, the spell completed. A massive, gleaming portal hovered before them.

One by one, students stepped through—some brimming with excitement, others hesitating.

Riven took a deep breath and stepped forward.

The world shifted.

When he opened his eyes, he was in a small, empty room. Dark wooden floors, pale walls, and nothing inside except a single, unassuming box resting at its center.

"Welcome, Riven Drakar." A soft voice spoke from behind him.

He turned sharply. A petite woman stood before him, clad in flowing gray robes. A black silk blindfold covered her eyes.

"I am Sana, an acolyte of the Great Solis Library. I will oversee your third trial."

Riven straightened instinctively. There was something about her presence—an unspoken weight of authority.

[[ Ugh, not these old coots again. ]]

Riven's brow twitched at the system's muttering, but he held his tongue.

Sana stepped forward. "I assume you are aware of the kingdom's recent troubles?"

"You mean the undead attacks?"

She nodded solemnly. "Their numbers grow daily, and their attacks show no signs of stopping. That is why the academy is accepting all those who possess a mana heart this year. Our forces are dwindling—we need mages."

She gestured towards the box. "Which brings us to your trial. This box is linked to the Solis Library, where copies of every skill book in existence are stored. It will scan your mana heart and grant you a skill book tailored to you. Your trial is simple: learn that skill. You will be evaluated on the rank of the skill and how efficiently you learn it."

Riven blinked. "So… I get a free skill?"

"Yes. However, the skill's quality is not guaranteed."

Riven nodded. 'I can still use the system to learn this, right? You're not going to screw with it?'

[[ I'll let you use the system if you promise to listen to me after this trial. ]]

'Fine.' Riven exhaled. As long as he passed, he didn't care.

"When you are ready, place your hand on the box."

Riven stepped forward and rested his palm atop the surface.

A hum of mana filled the room. Heat pulsed beneath his fingers.

[[ Oh, I have an idea! You're gonna love me for this! ]]

A crackle sparked in the air. Riven stiffened as a sliver of shadows slithered from his fingers—seeping into the box.

The box trembled violently. The heat beneath his palm flared, growing searing hot. A loud thud echoed from within as dust trickled from its edges.

Sana tilted her head, expression unreadable. The box stilled. The warmth vanished.

"You may open it," she instructed.

Riven unlatched the lid and carefully reached inside.

A small, dark book met his touch. Its black leather cover was tattered and worn, its pages aged and crumbling.

Sana's posture stiffened.

"You…" Her voice dropped, suddenly wary. "Who are you?"

Riven frowned. "What do you mean? I'm Riven Drakar."

"You… no, never mind." She hesitated before sighing. "You may begin learning your skill whenever you are ready."

Riven was confused, but he didn't have time to dwell on it. He had to pass the trial.

Carefully, he opened the book.

[[ You have obtained a skill book! 

Skill Book: Puppeteer of the Dead

Unlock Skill: Summon a minion of the dead (Can be evolved)

Would you like to learn this skill? (Yes/No) ]]

Riven's stomach twisted. Puppeteer of the Dead?

This… didn't look good. With all the undead activity lately, wouldn't this raise suspicion?

'System, what the hell did you do?!'

[[ I may have tweaked a few things. Bypassed security and made sure you got the rarest book possible. ]]

'Wait. So you didn't choose this specifically?'

[[ No, no! I just ensured whatever you were destined to get would be priceless. Aren't I great? ]]

Riven sighed, rubbing his temple. 'You did good. Thanks.'

Silence. Then—a quiet, almost bashful giggle echoed in his mind.

Shaking off the odd feeling, he turned to Sana. "Is there a time limit for learning the skill?"

"There is none."

Relief washed over him. At least he didn't have to rush.

He opened the book once more and began to focus on the rushed scribbled writing inside.

[[Skill Book: Puppeteer of the Dead

Unlock Skill: Summon a minion of the dead (Can be evolved)

Would you like to learn this skill? (Yes/No) ]]

He took a deep breath and selected 'Yes.'

The moment he did, the familiar sensation returned. He floated into the air, the book hovering before him, dark threads of light linking them.

[[ Downloading Skill Book: Puppeteer of the Dead.

1%… Time remaining: 6 days 23 hours 59 minutes 55 Seconds]]

A week?!

Shock hit him before a searing pain splintered his mind. Images flooded in.

[[ Gateway connecting… Connection secure… Transporting… ]]

Riven was transported once more, the room around him blurring as he was pulled somewhere else.

When everything settled down, his vision cleared and he could see he was standing in some sort of village.

"They're here! Ring the bell quickly!" He heard panicked shoutings coming from the town folk as they rushed over to the centre of the square beside Riven. They pulled back the large rope secured to the bell and began to ring it loudly.

"They're here! The undead are here! Hide!" The men shouted as they continued to frantically ring the bell.

Frantic cries arose from everywhere as people rushed to their homes and began bordering up their doors and windows.

Riven's heart pounded. This wasn't just a test anymore—this felt real. Too real. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and fear, and the cold wind carried the distant groans of the undead.

[[ Whoa. I wasn't expecting this. ]]

'You and me both,' Riven muttered internally, his gaze darting around. His body still ached from the skill download, but he forced himself to focus. If this was a part of learning the skill, then there had to be an objective.

He turned to one of the men still ringing the bell. "Where are they coming from?"

The man barely spared him a glance, his hands trembling on the rope. "North gate! They broke through the outer barricades! We don't have enough fighters to hold them back!"

Riven cursed under his breath and ran toward the northern side of the village. As he reached the outskirts, the sight before him sent a chill down his spine.

Dozens of undead staggered forward, their hollow eyes locked onto the village like starving wolves. Some wore tattered remnants of armor, while others had rotting flesh barely clinging to their bones.

At the front was a figure unlike the rest—a knight in blackened, rusted plate, his skeletal fingers gripping a massive, chipped sword. Unlike the others, he didn't move mindlessly. His gaze met Riven's, and for a moment, a strange recognition flickered in his hollow sockets.

[[ 12%… Time remaining: 6 days 3 hours 37 minutes 32 seconds ]]

Riven clenched his fists. Too slow.

But it did confirm his suspicions. Here in these dreamlike states caused by magic or the system, time moved differently. Time moved faster in the outside world than it did in this place, so he just had to hang on until the countdown was complete.

A few villagers with makeshift weapons stood between the undead and the town. Their expressions were grim and Riven could see the fear in their eyes. They wouldn't last long.

'System, can I use even a fraction of the skill right now?'

[[ Hmm… I can force an early access version, but it'll be weak. ]]

'I'll take what I can get.'

A sharp, static-like jolt ran through his body as the system responded.

[[ Emergency Override: Partial Skill Activation Unlocked ]]

[[ Skill: Puppeteer of the Dead (Incomplete)

Effect: Allows control over a single recently deceased corpse for 30 seconds. ]]

Riven exhaled. Not much, but better than nothing.

His eyes darted to a fallen villager near the barricade—a young man, no older than Riven himself, a sword still clutched in his lifeless grip. He hesitated for only a second before reaching out.

The air around the corpse shimmered. Shadows coiled around its limbs like ghostly threads.

[[ Command Input: Awaken ]]

The dead man jerked violently before stumbling to his feet. His dull, lifeless eyes locked onto Riven, awaiting orders.

The villagers gasped.

"H-he's a necromancer!" someone whispered.

Riven ignored them. "Charge," he commanded.

The corpse lurched forward, sword raised. It wasn't fast, but it wasn't mindless either. It met the nearest undead, clashing steel against brittle bone.

For thirty seconds, Riven's puppet fought with mechanical precision, cutting down three lesser undead before its movements faltered. The shadows unraveled, and the corpse crumpled.

Not enough.

The armored knight in the distance tilted his head, watching. Then, for the first time, he moved—lifting his rusted greatsword and pointing it directly at Riven.

Challenge accepted.

Riven set his jaw. If this was part of the trial, then he'd pass it no matter what.

The undead knight stepped forward, his heavy boots crushing the brittle bones of the fallen. A deep, hollow growl echoed from within his armour as he raised his sword.

The villagers behind Riven murmured in fear. "W-we're doomed…"

Riven wasn't so sure.

[[ 15%… Time remaining: 5 days 21 hours 18 minutes 10 seconds ]]

The skill was still downloading, but at this rate, he'd be long dead before he could fully complete it. He needed more time.

"System," he muttered under his breath. "Any way to extend the control time of my puppet?"

[[ Hmm… if I divert some of your mana reserves, I can stabilise the binding for an extra 10 seconds. ]]

"Do it."

[[ Warning: This will temporarily weaken your physical body. ]]

Riven didn't hesitate before agreeing again. A wave of exhaustion hit him as the corpse he had revived twitched violently before settling into a steadier stance. He clenched his fists. If he had to burn through all his mana to keep the dead fighting then so be it.

The dark knight fixated on him once more, a slight pause to his steps.

Then he dashed forward with an unnatural speed, his great sword swinging in a brutal arc.

Riven barely rolled to the side as the blade slammed into the ground, sending debris flying. He coughed feeling the shockwave rattle his bones.

That strength - it wasn't normal.

[[ That's a Deathbound Knight. They only form when a warrior dies carrying deep regrets. Stronger than the normal undead and a real pain to deal with. ]]

'Tell me something I don't know,' Riven shot back, already scanning for options. He outstretched his hand trying to use his fireball skill but nothing happened.

[[ This episode is linked to the Undead Puppeteer skill book. No other skills are gonna work here dummy. ]]

"Damn it!" Riven cursed as he locked eyes with the Deathbound Knight once more.

"System, can I bind more than one corpse at a time?"

[[ Normally not until you've evolved the skill… but since you're special, I might be able to bend the rules. You'd be pushing your limits though. ]]

"Do it."

Another jolt of energy left his body and shadows leapt towards two more fallen villagers. Their bodies convulsed before staggering to their feet, eyes glazed over as dark threads of mana wove through them.

The Deathbound Knight began to move once more. He raised his sword high, the air around him distorting with sheer mana pressure.

Riven knew this attack would obliterate him.

"Go!" He shouted.

His three undead puppets surged forward, weapons raised. The knights blade fell in a sweeping arc, cleaving through the first puppet instantly. But the second landed a slash against his exposed ribs and the third drove a spear into his back.

The knight staggered.

Riven didn't waste the opening. He lunged forward, gripping a fallen sword and plunging it towards the knights exposed throat.

But before the blade could connect, the knight caught it.

With one hand.

Rivens eyes widened.

The knight twisted the blade out of Rivens grasp and swung the flat of his great sword towards him.

Riven barely had time to register the impact before he was sent flying. His vision blurred as he crashed into the dirt, pain erupting from his ribs.

The knight stalked towards him, dragging his sword across the dirt.

Riven spat blood and forced himself up. His head pounded and his body ached, but he wasn't going to give up.

He wiped his mouth, taking in the battlefield. The villagers had fully retreated, leaving only him and his three faltering puppets against the Deathbound Knight. His mana reserves were running dangerously low, and the skill download was still crawling forward. He wouldn't last long like this.

'System, I need another advantage. Now.'

[[ Well, you're already using more puppets than you should, so I could push the bindings further— ]]

'No, not enough.' Riven's mind raced. 'There has to be something in this skill book I haven't tapped into yet.'

[[ Oh, so now you trust me to make adjustments? You wound me. ]]

'Shut up and do it.'

A static shock surged through his body.

[[ Override: Unlocking hidden Feature - Vitality Drain. ]]

[[ Effect: Consume vitality to stabilize undead minions for a longer period. Side effects may include dizziness, exhaustion, and possible death. ]]

Riven groaned. 'Possible death?!'

[[ Don't be a baby. I didn't say the vitality had to come from you, did I? ]]

Instantly understanding what the system meant, his eyes locked on one of the deserting villagers and Riven smirked.

'Drain him dry.' Riven sent out the command as he extended his hand towards the villager.

A dark tendril of energy shot from Riven's palm, latching onto the man's back. The villager jerked mid-step, his body seizing as wisps of life force drained from him, funneled directly into Riven's puppets.

The moment the energy connected, his undead minions stabilized. Their sluggish movements sharpened, and the shadows coiling around them thickened. One even straightened, grip tightening around its weapon as if recalling a fragment of its past life.

The Deathbound Knight paused.

It was subtle, but Riven caught it—a flicker of hesitation, the faintest shift in its posture.

It recognized something.

Or… it recognized him.

The villager collapsed with a strangled gasp, his body drained but alive—barely. Riven ignored the horrified stares of the few remaining townsfolk. It's not as if this was real anyway.

He just wanted the damn skill. Especially now that he's got a taste of how powerful it is.

The Deathbound Knight slowly lifted its greatsword again, but this time, there was something different in its stance—less mindless aggression, more… purpose. It was watching him now, truly watching, as if trying to remember something long buried beneath the decay.

Riven clenched his fists. His minions were stronger, but the knight was still the biggest threat on the battlefield. If he didn't find a way to finish this quickly, he'd be overwhelmed.

His three undead fighters circled the knight cautiously, no longer lurching like clumsy puppets but moving with a predator's grace. The stolen vitality had sharpened their reflexes, allowing them to strike in unison—one from the left, another from behind, and the third lunging straight for the knight's throat.

The knight responded with terrifying efficiency. His blade flashed, severing the first puppet's arm before kicking the second one back with bone-cracking force. The third managed to graze his armor, but the knight barely reacted.

And then, for the first time, he spoke.

"You… bear the mark…"

Riven froze.

The knight's voice was low, guttural, like a dying man's last words. The words sent a chill down his spine, not just because the undead had spoken, but because there was weight behind them. Recognition.

"What mark?" Riven demanded.

The knight's empty sockets locked onto him, unreadable yet filled with something unspoken. A memory? A warning?

"You should not exist."

And with that, the Deathbound Knight slammed his greatsword into the ground. A shockwave erupted, sending dust and debris flying.

Riven barely had time to throw up his arms before he was knocked back again, skidding across the dirt. His undead staggered but remained standing. The knight was done playing.

Riven spat blood. He had to end this.

The villagers were long gone, shielding themselves in their homes as they left him to fend for himself against the undead.

'System, do I need to see the subject if I want to drain there vitality?'

[[ I will be able to detect anything that's living within a two mile radius. ]]

'Drain all the soldiers that deserted the battle.' Riven ordered without hesitation.

He struggled to stand, his legs buckling from the pain and exhaustion.

[[ Scanning… ]]

[[ Detected 9 men fitting your description. Proceed with vitality drain? ]]

'Do it.'

Pain shot through his chest as he used up the remaining mana in his mana heart, but he ignored it. More shadows exploded from his body and shot out in different directions and the sound of the soldiers screaming echoed throughout the town. Energy soared through him as the shadows linking him and his undead minions grew thicker and stronger, connecting deeper into their bodies. Their backs straightened. Their dull eyes glowed faintly.

Riven inhaled sharply—he could feel them now. Not just as tools, but as extensions of himself. Their movements weren't clumsy commands anymore. He could predict how they'd react, sense how they would move before they did.

The Deathbound Knight noticed the change, gripping his sword tightly.

Riven smirked. "Let's finish this."

His undead launched forward again, but this time, they were fast. One ducked low, hacking at the knight's knees. Another feinted high before pivoting sharply, driving its spear into his exposed side. The last went for a direct assault, striking with relentless precision.

The knight was forced back.

For the first time, he was struggling.

His greatsword clashed against the undead, but every time he struck one down, Riven funneled more vitality in from other people in the village, forcing it to rise again. The knight's armour cracked. His movements slowed.

And then—Riven saw his opening.

The knight swung wide and Riven surged forward. Shadows coiled around his hand as he grabbed the hilt of a fallen sword and drove it straight through the knight's chest.

For a moment, silence.

Then, the Deathbound Knight shuddered. His skeletal fingers twitched, trying to raise his sword again—but the strength had left him. His head tilted toward Riven one last time.

"You… truly should not exist…"

With that, his body crumbled into dust, the greatsword falling with a heavy clang onto the bloodstained ground.

A rush of energy flooded into Riven, like a tether snapping back into place.

[[ Combat Sequence Complete. Skill Synchronization Accelerated. ]]

[[ 48%… Time remaining: 3 days 12 hours 15 minutes 30 seconds ]]

Riven dropped to one knee, breathing hard. His limbs felt like lead, his head spun, and his mana reserves were almost non existent . But he was alive.

And more importantly—he had won.

He was glad he upgraded himself to a first circle mage last night, he didn't even want to think about how he would have survived this without the extra mana he received from the circle orbiting his mana heart.

He glanced at the villagers, still watching from a distance from their houses, their eyes wide with shock and fear. Some looked at him like a hero. Others… like a monster.

Riven didn't care. This wasn't real, just a trial. But even so, a nagging thought settled in the back of his mind.

Why did the Deathbound Knight recognize him?

And why the hell did it say he shouldn't exist?

Riven clenched his fists. Whatever the answer was, he had a feeling it wouldn't be something he'd like.