The Eagle Group!

mission completed! Experience +20, Strength +0.2]

[Strength: 2.8→3.0]

[Experience Value: 170/190]

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the dense jungle, Jason stood solemnly atop the moose, the weight of his recent battle settling in his bones. "The Eagle Group is already on my trail?" he murmured to the silent wilderness, a hint of defiance in his tone.

The eerie transformation of the first mercenary into a grotesque, undead creature, a chilling moment in the twilight. Its gray, lifeless eyes and the guttural growl escaping its lips spoke of dark magics at play. The second mercenary lay still, spared from this fate by the brutal efficiency of the moose's strike with his whole skull bashed in.

With a practiced ease, Jason dismounted, stripping the fallen adversaries of their belongings. Each item he examined sparked a brief flicker of appraisal in his eyes due to the system:

[Inferior Iron Sword: Estimated at 20 Copper Coins, Recyclable]

[Worn Leather Armor: Estimated at 100 Copper Coins, Recyclable]

[Rough Small Crossbow: Estimated at 100 Copper Coins, Recyclable]

[ Old Boots: Valued at 1 Copper Coins, Recyclable]

Yet, combined, they amounted to a small fortune in his current plight. Upon agreeing to invest his newly acquired wealth into enhancing his Cursed Spear, a surge of arcane energy wrapped the weapon, its glow a testament to its newfound power. "From shadows to strength," he whispered, admiring the weapon's upgraded might and sinister new capabilities.

[Do you spend 500 Bronze to upgrade the Cursed Spear Lv2 to Lv4?]

[Cursed Spear Lv2→ Lv4]

[Armor Piercing +3→ +5]

[Demon Breaker +1→+2]

[Additional Attribute: Corpse Poison]

[Quality: Qualified→ ordinary (this is an enchanted spear blade, which can penetrate two layers of leather armor, has an extremely slight armor-breaking effect, and its power is difficult to ignore before piercing the flesh)]

[The skeleton knight ruthlessly stripped the clothes of the two mercenaries, revealing the naked remains, what is he going to do next? [Mission: Clean up the battlefield!] [

Option 1: Destroy the corpse and destroy the traces!] Notes: Destroy and hide the corpse from being discovered by the Eagle Regiment. Difficulty: E, Reward: XP +10, Strength +0.1] [Option 2: Abandoned Waste!]

Notes: Draw the gun ruthlessly, and turn around and leave. Difficulty: E, Reward: XP +10, Strength +0.1] [Option 3: Jason the Killer!]

Notes: Dragged the corpse to the Eagle Regiment stronghold with spider silk, and then retreated after provoking. Difficulty: SSS, Reward: Achievement "Master of Escape"]

The grim task of dealing with the bodies lay ahead, a reminder of the harsh realities of his journey. The options presented to him were a macabre tableau: destroy the corpses, abandon them to the wild, or use them in a bold, albeit reckless, gambit against the Eagle Group. With a thoughtful stroke of his chin, Jason dismissed the latter with a wry chuckle, "Escape Master? Perhaps in another life."

Choosing discretion over provocation, Jason vanished into the jungle's embrace, the haunting scene behind him soon to be discovered by others.

Indeed, the carrion creatures, drawn by death, made short work of the remains, leaving a gruesome scene for Scar and Blacksmith Blake of the Eagle Group to stumble upon. The stark horror of their comrades' fate struck deep, especially for Blake, who succumbed to his revulsion amidst the carnage.

The ambush by the undead abomination tested their mettle in the most visceral of ways. Scar's swift and lethal response, his blade singing through the air to claim the monster's head, was a moment of grim beauty. His weapon's keen edge remained unstained, a testament to his skill and the supernatural sharpness of the blade.

"Trash, stand up quickly!" Scar's command snapped Blake from his daze, his voice as cold as the steel he wielded. "We must report back," he declared, sheathing his blade with a fluid motion that belied the gravity of their discovery.

Scar's icy rebuke cut through the humid air, sharper than the blade he wielded with such lethal grace. The jungle around them seemed to hold its breath, the dense foliage a silent witness to the brutality of nature and man alike.

Blake, still shaking, struggled to his feet, his face pale under the streaks of vomit and sweat. "How can... how can you be so calm?" he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Scar's gaze lingered on the carnage before them, his eyes reflecting a tumult of emotions he'd long learned to bury beneath a facade of indifference. "In our line of work, sentiment is a luxury we can't afford," he replied, his voice low and steady. "And calmness... it's not peace, it's discipline."

As they prepared to leave. Scar led the way, his senses alert for any sign of danger, while Blake followed, his thoughts a whirlwind of fear and confusion.

The sun had begun its descent, casting elongated shadows that danced eerily on the ground. Birds of prey circled overhead, their keen eyes spotting the remnants of death below. Nature, in its rawest form, was both beautiful and merciless.

Scar paused, tilting his head as if listening to a whisper only he could hear. "This isn't just about missing scouts," he murmured, more to himself than to Blake. "Someone is challenging the Eagle Group... manipulating the strings of fate from the shadows."

Blake swallowed hard, the reality of their situation settling in. "What are we going to do?" he asked, his voice steadier now, bolstered by the need to survive.

"We'll send a message," Scar replied, his eyes glinting with a resolve as sharp as his blade. "A warning to those who dare cross us. This forest," he gestured to the surrounding wilderness, "will be their grave."

Their return to the Eagle Group's stronghold was swift and silent, the jungle relinquishing its hold on them as if recognizing their lethal purpose. Upon their arrival, the air was thick with anticipation, the stronghold a hive of activity as news of their findings spread.

Scar, with Blake at his side, made their way to the war room, where the leaders of the Eagle Group awaited their report. The room was dimly lit, the walls adorned with maps and weapons, a testament to the group's martial prowess.

As Scar recounted their encounter, his voice devoid of emotion yet imbued with a grave urgency, the room fell into a tense silence. The implications were clear: a new player had entered the game, one capable of turning their own dead against them.

"We must strengthen our defenses," Scar concluded, his gaze sweeping over the assembled leaders. "And we must find this puppet master, before they unleash further chaos upon us."

The meeting adjourned with a sense of unease, the air charged with the weight of impending conflict. Scar and Blake, now bound by shared ordeal, knew that the days ahead would test them in ways they could scarcely imagine.

In the heart of the jungle, Jason watched from a distance, his presence undetected. The gears of fate were turning, and he, too, had a role to play in the coming storm. A wry smile touched his lips as he turned away, vanishing into the shadows from which he'd come.

The aftermath of the headless corpse's explosion enveloped the clearing in a macabre haze, setting a dire tone for Scar and Blake's predicament. As they stumbled away from the blast site, covered in the gruesome remnants of their foe, the urgency of their situation became painfully clear.

Scar's reaction to the explosion, his quick thinking to use the precious antidote, and his decision to share it with Blake, revealed layers of his character not previously seen. Despite his harsh exterior and tendency to berate Blake, this act of sacrifice highlighted a complex loyalty and sense of responsibility towards his comrade.

"Damn it! How did it come to this?" Scar cursed under his breath, his voice laced with frustration and concern. The potion's bitter taste lingered in his mouth, a stark reminder of the peril they just survived.

Blake, still reeling from the shock and pain, looked at Scar with a newfound respect and a tinge of guilt. "I... I don't know how to thank you," he stuttered, his voice weak but sincere.

Scar snorted, wiping the last of the gore from his face with a grimace. "Save your thanks. Pay me back, and don't get us killed. That's thanks enough."

As they made their way back to the camp, the tension between the two eased slightly, replaced by a mutual recognition of their shared ordeal.

Upon their arrival at the Eagle Group's camp, their appearance caused immediate alarm. The camp, a bustling hub of activity.

Scar and Blake after explaining the excruciating ordeal they went through, when it over, both men collapsed, exhausted but alive.

The camp erupted into action, with comrades rushing forward to help them to their feet and lead them to rest.

Scar, lying on a makeshift bed, stared up at the canvas above him, his thoughts drifting. The day's events had taken a toll, but they also served as a stark reminder of the fragility of life and the lengths he would go to protect his own and those under his charge he noticed that his skin was was turning Blue.

Blake, on the other hand, lay in silent contemplation, the day's horrors etched deeply in his memory. He knew he had much to learn, and Scar's actions had taught him a valuable lesson in loyalty and survival also notice that his skin was turning blue with his blurring.