The Departure of the Trucks
The last of the heavy-duty trucks rumbled out of the estate, their engines fading into the distance.
The logistics officer gave a polite bow, still slightly dazed at the sheer amount Kyung-min had purchased.
"Thank you for your business, Mr. Han. If you ever need more, do not hesitate to contact us."
Kyung-min gave a small nod, his attention already shifting elsewhere.
Behind him, the estate's backyard was now stacked with weapons, armor, and equipment—all arranged in neat rows, sorted by type and function.
The workers who had unloaded everything gave the scattered cratered landscape uneasy glances, whispering among themselves.
One, braver than the rest, muttered, "The hell happened here…?"
Another nudged him. "You didn't hear? A hunter-in-training blew it up."
"Tch, what kind of training causes that?"
Kyung-min ignored them.
Their job was done.
Parental Curiosity
From the balcony above, his parents watched everything unfold.
His mother, arms crossed, exhaled softly. "What… exactly is he planning?"
His father, standing beside her, had a similar thought but worded it differently.
"He's preparing for something big," he muttered.
The butler, standing respectfully behind them, simply smiled. "Young Master always moves with intent."
His father narrowed his gaze at the older man.
"And you don't know what that intent is?"
The butler's lips curled into a cryptic smirk. "I may have an idea… but I will allow him to reveal it himself."
His father raised an eyebrow.
The butler shrugged.
His father raised his eyebrow even higher.
The butler cleared his throat. "Apologies, sir."
His father exhaled through his nose but said nothing.
Because even if the butler was being evasive—he wasn't wrong.
His son always had a plan.
And this time, it was far bigger than usual.
The Summoning Begins
Kyung-min stepped into the center of the newly acquired weapons and armor.
With a single flick of his wrist—
Bones began to rise.
A deep pulse of dark mana spread outward.
And then—
Rattle. Rattle. Rattle.
Fifteen skeletons emerged from the earth.
Each variant stood in a rough line:
🔹 Skeleton Warriors – The frontline, their reinforced bones crackling with mana.
🔹 Skeleton Archers – Their eye sockets glowing faintly as they silently awaited commands.
🔹 Skeleton Mages – Dark energy crackled at their fingertips, their bony figures shrouded in wisps of magic.
🔹 Skeleton Reapers – Their presence unsettling, their elongated claws flexing in anticipation.
The moment they fully formed—Kyung-min issued a simple command.
"Equip yourselves."
The skeletons moved.
Silent. Efficient. Almost mechanical.
Each grasped weapons suited to their build.
🔹 Warriors claimed swords and shields.
🔹 Archers slung bows over their skeletal shoulders.
🔹 Mages carefully selected staves, their energy flaring upon contact.
🔹 Reapers—though given daggers—seemed to prefer their natural weapons.
Then—the final touch.
Kyung-min gestured toward the masks and cloaks.
Without hesitation—the skeletons donned them.
Dark hoods fell over their skulls.
Bone-white faces vanished beneath the obscured designs of enchanted masks.
By the time they stood fully equipped—
They no longer looked like simple undead.
They looked like warriors.
The Realization
His father stared at the scene below.
His mother's breath hitched, a shiver running down her spine as the fully armed and masked skeletons stood like silent sentinels.
"This… isn't normal," she muttered.
His father, however, wasn't as unnerved.
Because as he watched the scene unfold—everything clicked into place.
The weapons.
The cloaks.
The masks.
Kyung-min wasn't forming a party.
He was creating an army.
Before he could say anything—
The butler suddenly stepped forward.
"Young Master," the butler said, his tone laced with understanding.
Kyung-min tilted his head.
"If you require it," the butler continued, "I can prepare identities for them as well."
Kyung-min's smirk grew.
His father—who had just been processing the situation—snapped his gaze to the butler.
Another eyebrow raise.
The butler bowed slightly. "Apologies, sir."
His mother blinked. "I—what? What's happening?"
She turned to her husband.
Her husband turned to the butler.
The butler simply stood there, unreadable.
Kyung-min, meanwhile, was amused.
He hadn't even thought of that.
But why not?
If people needed a name to attach to a force they couldn't explain—
Then maybe it was time to start building one.
His mother took a deep breath and exhaled.
"...I need tea," she muttered.
One of the skeleton mages—seemingly sensing her distress—stepped forward.
In its hand—
A flower.
Plucked from somewhere unseen.
A peace offering.
His mother stared at it.
The skeleton tilted its head.
Kyung-min chuckled softly.
His father sighed, rubbing his temples.
"...So this is your idea of 'solo, but not solo'?" he finally asked.
Kyung-min's smirk was all the answer he needed.
His father pinched the bridge of his nose. "God help us all."
The butler chuckled.
His mother was still debating whether to accept the flower.
And the masked skeletons stood, silent and unwavering—
Awaiting their master's next command.
The Master's Command
Kyung-min surveyed the assembled skeletons, fully armored and masked, their presence exuding an eerie yet commanding aura.
They were no longer just summons.
They were soldiers.
A force that, while silent, could move as one at his command.
And this was just the beginning.
The butler remained beside him, waiting patiently. His father and mother still stood on the balcony, observing in quiet astonishment.
Finally, his father exhaled.
"This is absurd."
Kyung-min simply smirked. "Is it?"
His father ran a hand through his hair. "Most awakeners struggle to control a single summon, let alone an entire squad—and here you are, gearing them up like mercenaries."
Kyung-min's eyes gleamed beneath his mask. "I prefer the term 'special forces.'"
The butler suppressed a chuckle.
His mother, still processing everything, hesitated before finally accepting the flower from the skeleton mage, sighing deeply.
"...This is going to give me a headache."
Where Do They Come From?
Kyung-min's smirk returned.
"I wonder," he mused. "Where do they come from?"
His father's eyes hardened.
"This isn't a joke."
Kyung-min exhaled softly.
"Then let me ask you something," he countered. "Where do summoned creatures come from?"
His father didn't immediately answer.
Because the truth was complicated.
Summoners could contract creatures from other realms—beasts, spirits, even lower-ranked divine beings.
But where those realms actually were?
That was a mystery no one had ever fully solved.
"I don't know," his father admitted. "But your case is different. You aren't summoning—you're raising."
Kyung-min chuckled.
"Maybe the system disagrees."
His father studied him.
"You think the system allowed you something it didn't give anyone else?"
Kyung-min's smirk deepened.
"Maybe."
His father frowned.
That answer was… dangerous.
Because if it were true—if his son's power was something outside the known system…
Then who or what gave it to him?
Kyung-min turned away from his father's stare.
He looked at his skeletons instead.
Each one stood in formation, silent, waiting.
There was no hesitation in their postures.
No fear. No uncertainty.
They were his.
His father was right.
Summoners don't raise the dead.
And yet—
He did.
"...I don't know," he finally said.
That was partially true.
Because even now—
Even after all the cycles, all the resets—
He still didn't know where the skeletons came from.
His Father's Realization
His father exhaled slowly.
"...You aren't lying."
That, more than anything, made his mother tense.
Because if Kyung-min didn't know—
Then there was no precedent for his power.
The butler, however, simply smiled.
"Then, Young Master," he said smoothly. "Shall I begin forging backgrounds for your… knights?"
Kyung-min grinned.
His father gave the butler an unimpressed look.
"...You're enjoying this."
The butler didn't deny it.
His mother pinched the bridge of her nose.
"...I need stronger tea."
Kyung-min chuckled.
He had expected suspicion.
Doubt.
Maybe even fear.
But this?
His father was confused.His mother was stressed.His butler was having the time of his life.
And his skeletons—
STILL..... awaited his next command.