Aside from losing one of his skeletal axe-wielders, Ander himself wasn't hurt much. The Soul-Eater Phantom devoured the soul-fire of that skeleton, but Ander only lost a bit of mental energy used to control it. Still, Ander was shaken—what was a "bug-like" undead creature like the Soul-Eater Phantom doing in the Withered Forest?
Even when they're newly created, Soul-Eater Phantoms can use their soul-devouring ability three times a day, ignoring physical defenses to consume the soul-fire of any weaker undead! The skeleton axe-wielder Ander used to scout wasn't a magic-type, but it was at least a level-two skeleton. Yet it didn't even have a chance to resist before it was devoured! That Phantom was definitely no low-level entity.
Feeling a bit dizzy from the mental energy he lost, Ander shook his bony head and stood up, recalling the giant skeleton pile he'd seen. He sensed something was off about it, but couldn't quite put his finger on what. Learning that there were Soul-Eater Phantoms in the Withered Forest killed his desire to keep exploring—he wasn't sure his mental energy would be stronger than one of those things.
He left, taking his skeleton minions with him, feeling too spooked to keep fighting any undead along the way. He just focused on moving forward… But after a few kilometers, Ander slapped his forehead in realization. The problem was with that pile of undead king bones! Sure, it was just a pile of corpses stacked together, but the bones were intertwined as if they'd died protecting something!
Once he understood this, he couldn't help but head back. One Soul-Eater Phantom, or even a dozen bone dragons, wouldn't stop Ander now. He mentally searched through his memories for ways to deal with Soul-Eaters and, as luck would have it, found something. When a Soul-Eater Phantom devours enough soul-fire, it has to stop and digest. It doesn't matter how much soul-fire is around—it won't consume any more once it's full.
Naturally, Ander decided to use his newly recruited skeletons as bait. "For the cause… you shall be remembered!" he thought.
Controlling one skeletal axe-wielder after another, Ander sent them in to be devoured. Each time, he lost only a small amount of mental energy, but after nine times, he was feeling dizzy, and his vision was blurry. Finally, after devouring ten soul-fires, the Phantom's form started to flicker—proof it was full.
Ander cautiously sent an eleventh skeleton to circle the Soul-Eater. It showed no reaction, so he relaxed. With four skeletons remaining, he wasted no time, stumbling back to the huge skeleton pile of the undead kings.
"Move it! Dig!" he ordered, pointing to the massive pile. With a decisive motion, Ander slung his staff behind his neck and started digging himself. Following suit, the skeletons clattered their axes to the ground and got to work digging.
There was something deeply unsettling about being surrounded by so many undead king bones. Ander kept one eye on the satiated Soul-Eater drifting aimlessly nearby as he dug desperately. These rulers had been dead for who knows how long—the thinner bones crumbled to dust at the slightest touch. Eventually, Ander lay down, clawing his way into the pile.
There *had* to be something buried here—he could feel it as if it were meant for him. Suddenly, a shriek echoed—the Soul-Eater's scream! Ander's soul-fire flickered with fear, and he accidentally knocked over a large skull, which released a cloud of bone dust and an old, tattered leather notebook. He snatched it up and ran—just as a horde of Soul-Eater Phantoms began to appear.
He wasn't sure if the phantoms had just been awakened or if he was simply moving fast, but Ander barely managed to escape the skeleton pile with his prize. He kept running, and even the sated Soul-Eater that blocked his path was tossed aside with a control spell.
Then he heard it: "Master…" Startled, Ander glanced back and, seeing the newly loyal Soul-Eater following him, he broke into a smile. It seemed the spell had worked, binding the Phantom to him!
"Cut the chatter! Keep up!" This bit of unexpected luck steadied Ander's nerves as he raced out of the forest. The pursuing Phantoms halted at the forest's edge, as if held back by some invisible force.
Feeling he'd reached safety, Ander took a moment to realign his vertebrae, which had twisted out of place. After a short rest, he set off again with his five bare-handed skeleton minions and his newly tamed Phantom. Who knew if other powerful beings might sense the ruckus he'd caused? Get out, then hide and examine the loot—that was the way to go.
After five days of non-stop travel, Ander finally paused by a black river, exhausted.
The notebook he'd jammed between his ribs was titled *The Kashnikov Notes*. It didn't look like much, but that name—Kashnikov—was legendary. Three thousand years ago, Kashnikov had ruled the entire Bone Mountains before angering Death itself and being destroyed. His mountain stronghold was flattened into the Bone Plains as a result.
The contents of the notebook had enlightened Ander along the way, with knowledge that only a true undead ruler would know. Compared to this, Ander's inherited memories felt downright childish.
There was even more incredible information—experimental records that hinted Kashnikov had tried to develop a weapon capable of killing Death itself. That was likely what led to his downfall. Although Ander could barely understand much of it, what truly caught his attention were sections on soul-fire manipulation and experiments in undead transformation. These sparse notes were like an open door—a doorway to greatness.