Isekai Summoner: My Army of the Dead Rules the Dungeon

I stand at the edge of a broken plain, my head pounding as if struck by a smith's hammer. A dull sky watches overhead, and something about the air sets my teeth on edge. This place stinks of blood and sweat.

I remember nothing of how I got here. One moment I recall dying—yes, I'm fairly sure I died. Strange that I can't remember what killed me.

Now I'm here, raw and uncertain, my throat burning, my clothes in tatters. I look down and flex my fingers. They move slowly, as if I'm wearing someone else's gloves. But no, it's my flesh. I'm alive in some manner. That's enough for now.

A window appears before my eyes. It hovers in the space in front of me, an impossible thing: blue letters suspended midair, strange runes drifting before my face. My name is there—Cid Tassadin—followed by "Level 1 Battle Summoner." The hell does that mean?

Back in the old life, I was a nobody who liked to read grim stories and daydream about worlds where power could be seized by force. Now I stand in one such world, and I can't remember asking for it. But I won't complain. I'm here, and I have a class: Battle Summoner.

I have no idea what that implies, but a tiny part of me—some ragged shred of pride—finds strength in it. I raise my hand to see if more text appears. It does:

Skills: None unlocked Summons: None available Quests: None accepted

What kind of joke is this? No skills, no summons, no quests. I'm a warrior with no blade, a sorcerer with no magic.

I shake my head and notice a flicker of movement far off. Shapes drift in the distance. One figure steps closer, wearing old leathers and carrying a chipped sword. A man? He notices me and waves.

I stiffen. Maybe he knows something. I start forward, feet crunching over dead ground.

He calls out, "You look lost." His voice is rough, as if he has spent years shouting over roaring beasts. He stops a few steps away.

I say, "Where is this place?" I try to keep my tone steady, but my throat strains. I taste dust.

He frowns. "You're a fresh arrival, aren't you? That means you're off to the local guild. They'll set you straight. See that settlement?" He points across cracked soil. There's a structure ahead, walls of timber and stone, torches burning low. "That's where you start. Get yourself a weapon and take a quest. No one lasts long here without one."

I nod. I'm not sure what else to say. The man steps aside as I pass. He doesn't ask for my name, and I don't offer it.

A sense of weight presses on my shoulders. I have to learn how things work here. A guild, quests, leveling. My screen said "Level 1." That means there are higher levels. Strength can be earned. Power can be won.

If this place is shaped by combat, then I must fight. I will rise or I'll die again. Let's see what the system wants from me.

I reach the settlement. The gate stands crooked, and beyond it I see a few lean figures, their eyes wary. They wear boiled leather and carry spears. They don't challenge me.

Inside, a makeshift building with a hanging sign waits. I push the door open and find a cramped hall lit by weak lanterns. Behind a counter stands a tired-looking clerk.

He says, "Name and class."

I swallow. "Cid Tassadin. Battle Summoner."

He raises an eyebrow. "A Summoner, are you? Rare class. Not many manage that. Show me your status screen."

I turn my head slightly, thinking the command. The blue window appears. He doesn't flinch. He must be used to it.

He nods. "Level 1. No summons yet. You'll want a starter quest. Begin with the training dungeon just east of here." He rummages through a pile of parchment. "Take this writ. Clear the dungeon's first floor. Return with a token of proof from one of its mobs. You do that, you get a basic weapon and a skill scroll."

A skill scroll sounds like salvation. I say nothing else and step out. The day feels darker now. I stand on the threshold of a life built on killing.

I head to the overmap signboard planted outside the gate. It's strange—an actual board showing routes, small icons representing dungeons and lairs. My eyes focus on the training dungeon icon, and a prompt appears:

New Quest: Clear the Training Dungeon's First Floor Objective: Retrieve 1 Rusted Claw from dungeon mobs. Reward: Starter Weapon, Skill Scroll, +100 EXP

I grunt. At least it's direct. I pass the gates and move east. The world blurs slightly as I follow the path. Soon I stand before an opening in the earth. Stone steps lead down. Another prompt hovers:

Enter the Training Dungeon? Yes/No

I think "Yes." The world warps, and I find myself in a low corridor of cracked stone. The air tastes stale, but I catch a faint sound—claws scraping against rock.

My heartbeat quickens. A message appears:

Turn-based Combat Mode: Engage or Flee Mobs: Skeletal Rats (x3)

Skeletal rats? Sounds weak enough. I confirm "Engage." Everything seems to slow. A menu appears, showing my hit points, a pitiful number: 50/50.

The rats shriek, and a turn order displays above their skulls. I have no weapon, only bare fists.

I grimace and punch the first rat. My fist hits bone. I cause minimal damage, chipping a bit of its skull.

The rats respond. One scratches my calf. I feel pain flash through me and notice my HP drop to 45. Another bites my ankle, 40 HP left.

I fight on. After a few ugly exchanges, I stand over their shattered remains, panting. A prompt:

Victory! +20 EXP Loot: Rusted Claw (1)

I'm shaking, but I'm alive. The rats drop exactly what I need.

I return to the entrance, and the moment I step outside, I'm back at the overmap. I follow the route back to the settlement.

The clerk seems surprised when I hand him the claw so soon. He gives me a battered longsword, a meager blade with a chipped edge, and a scroll.

I open the scroll, and words flare in my vision:

Skill Unlocked: Summon Undead Soldier (C-Tier)

My heart thuds. A Summoner with a soldier of death at his call. A whisper in my head tells me I've taken the first step toward something bigger.

I focus on the skill, and a shape forms before me. A hulking warrior with rotting armor and a twisted helm rises from greenish mist. It stands before me, weapon in hand.

My first summon, my first ally in this strange place. I laugh quietly. A different life awaits. No more weak struggling. I have a weapon, a summon, and the promise of strength ahead.