Bakenekro: [A Dungeon LitRPG]

By Simone Bianco

The Underwasteland is the hell at the edge of the universe. In the house in the middle of an ash desert, N inherits the title of [Empress] of the Underwasteland. Her tasks are as important as they are monotonous: judging the deceased and taking care of the immense dungeon in which they rest. N's life is boring and lonely until a [hero] offers her an umbrella. "When the time comes, avenge me" is what he asks in return. Between colorful encounters and difficult moments, N must complete at least a thousand years of mandate as [Empress]. A difficult task since some sleepers are more dangerous dead than alive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Youcanprint
• Release date: Jan 29, 2024
• ISBN: 9791222726892

Book preview

Chapter 1: Those who accept

1

Shaking my feline ears as the two tails twist in the air, I think about his move. The tails move sinuously and autonomously, causing the bow-tied bells to ring when sudden movements occur.

It is a crystal-clear sound, pleasant, but distracting.

In my right hand, I hold a chess piece.

It is carved from black, Devil's bone. I test its smoothness with my thumb.

Ci-cin.

The bells ring again. I turn slightly, my black snake-headed tail pointing at the board. The other thorny bone tail continues to move indifferently.

I haven't yet understood whether my will is also in them, or whether they move on their own.

Beyond the tails and wherever you lose sight, the desert reigns. The flat calm of the underworld.

Ci-cin.

We have little time left my opponent, on the other side of the board, sitting cross-legged on the cushion. Like me anyway.

Father, your defense is formidable.

As always, he he he. But that's not what makes you hesitate, is it?

I look at my father. His thin, pale body, his thick black mane, his blue eyes.

  How much I inherited from him…

…but if I win now, I won't be able to see him anymore.

You understood it father, you understood it.

Put that Ferryman down, come on. From there, my defeat will be irreversible, he-he.

Ci-cin.

Okay, father.

I place the piece of bone – the Ferryman – between his Sorcerer and his God. In this way the web is tense. On the next move, he will have to sacrifice the Warlock to avoid checkmate and, from there, he will lose his Knights and it will be over.

View? It wasn't difficult.

You could still win, I lie.

Ha ha-ha, you're a terrible liar. Very bad… come on, here's your hand.

My father extends his hand towards me. I extend my hand towards him.

Ci-cin.

The bells around my snake tail.

Well done, good match.

I look down. So… ten thousand years have passed…?

He strokes my head between my ears. His hand is cold, like me anyway. But it's nice when he does that.

Ten thousand years. A long, long time when I think about it.

But…

Open your grimoire, it should update.

I take his hand in mine and bring it to my cheek.

Father. If I open it, it will be the end…

Would you like to leave it closed forever? Go ahead, open it, and get level twenty-one. And may the next thousand years be as jubilant as mine have been. So that you can even make two, three, five thousand!

Not ten?

His gaze is as peaceful as the underworld itself. The empty gaze filled only with affection, sculpted over ten thousand years of reign.

Yes, even ten if you want. Now come on, I'm going over there to rest.

Silence falls.

My father retracts his arm and frees himself from my grasp.

Ci-cin.

My tails get restless. No.

I'm nervous.

I'm going over there to rest…

It means that he will go to the ultimate goal of every ruler: the Ocean. His time will come there.

I follow him with my gaze. He opens the ash-colored wooden door and closes it behind him.

He went.

He is gone forever.

I stand up. The freezing floor passes through my fishnet stocking.

Leaning on the porch, I look at the horizon.

The Underwasteland. The underworld is a dumping ground for everything that is not alive.

There is nothing here on the upper floor except the vast desert of ash.

I turn towards the door one last time.

By now my father will have reached the Ocean. He can instantly move between planes. Like me, anyway.

Since my twenties [lv] I have struggled to understand it: why? Why not live another ten thousand years?

Ci-cin.

But so, he decided, so is the law of this world. The System laws.

I raise my palm. My green claw nails seem suspended in space.

Appear.

At the call of my voice, a large dark tome appears in my hand. A silver chain dangles, at its peak there is a thin crescent-shaped blade.

It pulses with a purple, tentacle-like light. A sign that some functions need to be updated.

That's how it is.

I accept it.

Open.

With that word, the book opens. It scrolls by itself until one page toward the middle. It glows with those purple miasmas and the page on which it is open swirls with black ink.

They take on a clearer shape until they become a statistical table.

My statistics table.

[lv: 20] [up: +1] [xp: 1050]

[name: N]

[type: Eldritch Entity]

[class: Bakenekro]

[priority: ?]

[job: ?]

Opening the statistics table is a thrill.

The sense of the new, seeing that one value – the experience points – increases with my years.

In reality, the level also increases, with each update I get older. That [up: +1] marks that I can finally upgrade to [lv: 21].

Not just any [lv]. It coincides with my actual age.

It's the [lv] that will unlock my [job] and my [priority].

…along with it, it will make me take my father's place…

Holding the book open in my hand, I bite the thumb of my free hand.

Blood.

Green drops dripping onto the pages.

My blood oxidizes immediately, going from green to black. But that's enough.

The purple miasma expands and twists.

Ci-cin.

Enveloped in darkness, I reopen my eyes to my world: the Underwasteland.

I didn't hear anything abnormal. It's as if I leveled normally.

I check the statistics.

[lv: 21] [xp: 1050]

[name: N]

[type: Eldritch Entity]

[class: Bakenekro]

[priority: Magic]

[job: Empress]

They have changed.

The job: [Empress], and my priority: [Magic] appeared.

In these twenty-one levels, I have accumulated the basic knowledge of the Underwasteland, together with the [xp].

So far, I have not been able to use the [xp], nor have I been able to consult the parts of the grimoire freely.

Up to level [21] for [Eldritch Entity] it is a fact.

It seems that certain creatures, such as domestic cats and humans, can consult the library as early as level [3] or [4]. But it is also true that their vitality is significantly lower.

However, the ink continues to produce rivulets and streams on the paper, a sign that I don't have time to think.

Parameters.

This is the command to access the vital [parameters].

[hp: 2365]

[s: 2][c: 3]―[d: 6][i: 5][…][…]

[ap: 3562]

[c: 3][i: 5]―[d: 6][s: 2][…][…]

[?]

[…][…]―[…][…][…][…]

Interesting.

[?] means unlockable.

[…] they are empty slots. They will probably fill up after I unlock [?].

[hp] indicates the physical parameters as a whole, while [ap] the magical ones. They are the values of my vitality, the most important.

From what my father taught me: [c], [d], [i], [s] are [constitution], [dexterity], [intelligence], and [strength] respectively.

The values on the left are immutable, while those on the right are permutable. In practice, the different priority of the elements characterizes the set of my [parameters].

Pretty simple.

I have no valid yardsticks. After ten thousand years, my father told me that he had everything at [9] and it is true.

Ten thousand years is a long time.

So many that you even want to…

Ci-cin.

I hold back tears.

Later I will pay homage to his memory. I know that's what he would want. Twenty-one [lv] is a short time to live, but I'm sure he wants me to do a good job.

The grimoire still has one page to show me.

Skills.

As before the pages flow, the crescent swings, and the miasmas caress my tails, my hair.

Here the [skills] page appears.

The [skills] acquired upon reaching [lv: 21] are at the first step of [mastery].

My [Domestic skills], useful for everyday life and the ability to teleport into the labyrinth of the Underwasteland, are instead at [3] out of a maximum of [9].

The same goes for my [Poisonous bite]. Mine and of my tails.

At least, in these twenty-one [lv] I have practiced.

[Scan] is also at [2]. I used it a few times, under the guidance of my father.

[Poison cloud] sounds interesting. Apparently, I can get specific abilities by combining my stats.

[Poison cloud] My father didn't have it. I'm sure.

On the other hand, he didn't have [Necromancy], but he did have [Time].

[Judgment] is a new [skill] and is very high. It is an indispensable [skill] for my task, it makes sense that it should be so. Indeed, it is strange that it is not already at its maximum capacity.

My father didn't warn me.

Ci-cin.

I close the grimoire which evaporates in a dark haze.

There are many things I have to investigate, too many typologies and sub-typologies of the System.

On the one hand, I feel my curiosity growing, on the other, I don't feel in the right mood.

It's best if I pay my respects to my father right away.

I'm about to go back inside, my foot caressing the stone floor.

Ci-cin.

Blop!

This sound…

It's time.

It's about to happen, there's no time to waste.

I walk down the porch steps and feel desert ash between my toes.

Blop, blop, bloop, bloop…

I look up at the sky.

A black sky, dotted with bodies in various states of decomposition. They are slightly luminescent, separated floating at various depths in the cosmic darkness.

This is the most isolated point in the universe and only the ring of perpetual twilight brings light. That and the filaments and lightning of the sky.

I find bubbles in the gelatinous atmosphere.

Blop-blo-bloop…

They increase in frequency.

Who among them is about to descend?

In the black sky, there is a drop falling.

Ci-cin!

Oh!

Emotion.

Curiosity.

This is the first creature that I will have to judge to accompany it towards eternal sleep.

The drop of black pitch falls far away in the desert.

[Dungeon path] envelops me and I reappear among the sands beyond the horizon.

In front of me, a quadruped emerges from the tar patch.

Auhh… Auuuhhh!

The creature lets out a howl and then falls back into the pitch.

I feel a little sorry, it has decomposed skin and some exposed bones.

I bring my hand closer to its muzzle, but the animal snorts.

[Scan] allows me to consult its statistics.

[lv: 4] [xp: 25]

[name: ?]

[type: Dog]

[job: Predator]

[hp: 13]

[c: 1][s: 3]

[ip: 23]

[d: 2][s: 3]

[malus: Deceased]

Poor, it is weak.

My father taught me this: when a body arrives here, it is in opposition to its condition on the planet it belongs to.

Thus, in the atmospheric membrane, it is usual for bodies to start as decomposed blobs. Eventually, they take on a more or less consistent appearance and become too heavy.

So, they fall.

Unaware of the imminent eternal sleep that will befall them.

Ci-cin.

The snake-headed tail shakes.

I don't know what [ip] means, but now is not the time to worry about it.

Come, are you hungry?

It is good practice to offer comfort to the dead, respecting their being. Only bacteria and other microscopic beings answer to other gods. I have no power to host them.

The dog looks at me with glassy eyes.

It tries to wag its tail but can't get up.

Wait.

I use [Dungeon path] to return to the frontier house.

The chessboard is still on the low table and the two cushions are on the floor.

I open the door onto the veranda and enter the humble room.

I open the wooden cupboard take out some bone berries, and then use [Dungeon path] again.

The nameless dog didn't move.

I bend down and offer the berries with the palm of my hand.

Maybe it's my nails or my tails, but the animal doesn't trust it and backs away.

Sigh.

I'm sorry that it can't feel at ease.

My father definitely would have done a better job. Ten thousand years of experience…

I place my hand on its head. This time it doesn't react, maybe it's just too weak.

I'm ready.

It is the moment.

I feel the energy flowing down my spine. A flow that runs to the tips of my fingers.

My eyes begin to emit will-o'-the-wisps that alter the color of things. Everything becomes bluish, light blue, full of light.

I use [Judgment].

…

[Judgment: Dream]

Sigh of relief. The anxiety goes away.

It is a positive judgment.

[Dream] indicates that the body will disperse into an eternity of wonderful dreams.

I'm sure it deserves it.

Rightly so.

For creatures under [lv: 5], the Underwasteland dungeon remains closed. Therefore, the animal closes its eyes and begins to turn into ash.

More ash for the infinite desert.

I feel its pungent fragrance disappear. But I keep my hand on my head as long as I can.

The cold hand of a quiet death.

Only the dead have a smell in this place and, although it is often unpleasant, I like that they leave this trace of their passage.

Rest and have good dreams.

2

Time passes slowly in the Underwasteland.

It is the slowest in the entire universe. One hour here is equivalent to one year on the dragon planet, or ten years on the human planet.

Objectively it’s the fastest, I know, but from my perspective time never passes… it's so slow!

These are things handed down from my father's education. I have no way of verifying.

As much as [Dungeon path] allows me to wander freely in the dungeon… there is no way: ash desert and oceanic abyss are the two extremes of my world.

Of my thousand years of mandate.

Or ten thousand, if I want to follow in my father's tracks.

This temporal difference is essential. It is no coincidence that Underwasteland is so distant from everything, on the edge of reality itself.

If that wasn't the case, I would be overwhelmed with work. No living being, which I believe I am anyway, could ever handle countless deaths at once.

It would be chaos.

The impossible overflow of the afterlife.

So instead, it is enough for two beings to expire at slightly different times that even two or three hours pass before the membrane falls off.

It is rare for there to be more than five deaths at one time.

My father told me about it, but in twenty-one years I haven't seen any.

Sure that…

…I feel lonely.

I'm thinking of you, father. But, of course, you don't answer.

Even when you were alive you couldn't read thoughts.

I look at the black pool that extends to infinity. Under the roof of the immense cave.

My father measured it. How big is it?

Hmm… between the ground and the ceiling and the walls… the radius is about eight hundred thousand miles, already. Huge…

But still tiny compared to the cosmos or the abyss itself.

The surface waters are calm and, in the distance, the waterfalls of the Whirlpool of souls can be heard echoing. A lake in constant storm a few floors up, in the dungeon.

In this place there is darkness.

I can't see anything beyond the platform. Even the [Will-o'-the-wisps] of the street lamps that light the way, or my eyes, see nothing but darkness.

Father, no, for once: Dad, today I ferried my first life.

I will be your worthy successor, so don't worry. May this abyss remain as calm during my reign as it has been in yours.

Ci-cin.

I turn towards the streetlights.

Now I feel better, freed from a burden.

It's been just under an hour since my first sentence, yet I feel so alone.

I could go back to the house in the desert, using [Dungeon path]. But I prefer to cross a bit of the dock.

The lights of the street lamps illuminate up to a majestic obsidian staircase. From there you access the penultimate floor of the dungeon, where the most horrible creatures rest.

For many years, I have never been allowed to walk in the dungeon. Only the [Emperor], with his power to pacify eternal sleep, can.

Not that sleepers wake up, but some of them are dangerous even while sleeping.

This is why placing my foot on the smooth step is a very strange, new sensation.

In front of me, how many? One hundred thousand, two hundred thousand steps?

From here I cannot see the Golden Doors that separate this area from the others.

All right, I feel satisfied.

Ci-cin.

I use [Dungeon path] and find myself on the porch.

My ears droop, although there is no wind – an element I know from the stories of the dead – the air here is dry and cold. Much more pleasant than the freezing humidity of the abyss.

The chessboard is still there, but there's no one worth rearranging it for.

I look at the sky. Bodies floating at unattainable heights and lightning intersperses them.

It's early, no creatures coming.

Open.

The grimoire appears in my hand.

My stats are unchanged, except for [xp] – up by [1] measly point – and one of the empty slots. Now it bears [ip].

[ip] was the stat the dog had in place of the magic value.

Who knows what that means?

I try to activate it and my table changes.

A sense of power comes over me.

[hp: 2365]

[s: 2][c: 3]―[d: 6][i: 5][…][…]

[ap: 3562]

[c: 3][i: 5]―[d: 6][s: 2][…][…]

[ip: 6235]

[d: 6][s: 2]―[c: 3][i: 5][…][…]

[ip] I hear it now.

It's clear to me what this means: they are the irrational parameters, the ones I can't control with my mind.

Ci-cin.

I wonder if my tails are affected by this parameter.

Well, I have no way of checking them anyway. Ironically, they are currently my highest stat!

I put my wrist to my mouth and chuckle softly.

[Scan] allows me to see other being's statistics and, if compatible, index them for me.

Good, but now?

The news is over…

I straighten my skirt and enter the house.

The two chairs, the table, the pantry, the kitchen… all this charred wood and stone.

I realize, feeling my pockets, that I still have the bone berries.

I sit at the table to eat them.

No smell, the taste of ash.

I throw them into my mouth one after the other, intent on thinking about what to do.

Twenty-one levels, twenty-one years and I have always been in company.

Ah, father!

You should have prepared me for this! Maybe abandoning me for days in the desert!

But what am I saying… oh, mindless!

I run my fingernail through my hair, curl it, and release it. Black and flowing like a river.

One moment!

There is one thing I can do.

Open!

The faithful grimoire appears.

[Necromancy: 1]

Here you are.

Here's what I can do.

Waking someone up from sleep, convincing them to spend time with me.

However…

Waking up someone who has an eternity of beautiful dreams wouldn't be right. I would definitely have to fish for some evil individual.

Hmm… I already feel like this is a stupid idea, let's forget about it.

Ci-cin.

My snake-headed tail stands erect and looks into the other inner room. There are no windows in there, the light only filters through the cracks between the boards.

I glimpse the bed, a wardrobe, and the desk.

My father never knew either.

Who put us here? What are these things for?

Why this little house at the top of a large maze?

I'm here because my father and mother were here.

My father too, same fate.

However, I never knew my mother. She died on a distant planet, and since my father was about to reach ten thousand years old, he kept her with him for a while before using [Judgment].

One thing led to another; he told me.

Ci-cin.

What's up? You are restless today.

Tail doesn't listen to me. How could it? It's a tail.

It continues to look around, twisting and approaching surfaces. I guess it's the [ip] effect. Of the two tails, this is the more responsive.

But there's no way to understand what it wants.

Pwheee… I spread my arms and rested my cheek on the table.

I shake my ears and a cloud of ash rises.

I watch it disperse, falling back onto the table. Some ash ends up on my nose and I feel like sneezing. I try to hold the air but…

Etciù!

Ci-cin.

A shiver that shakes me all over.

Now there is much more dust fluttering than before.

I wonder if dogs sneeze too? My tails don't and I don't remember any deceased who did.

But I remember their smells. Particular, exotic…

Here not even my sneeze seems to smell.

How boring.

3

The orchestra hall is located on the first underground floor of the dungeon. It's the first time I've gone down alone and my tails seem quieter than usual. They float without ringing any bells.

There is no electric-magic light but there are some unconsumable lamps on the walls. The same goes for chandeliers. As well as the street lamps of the Ocean.

This is because they work with the magic of the host.

[Will-o'-the-wisp] makes the room light