CHAPTER 224: CONSECRATION

I gave him a brief nod in return before activating [Warp].

The world bent and folded around me, and in the blink of an eye, I was standing atop the mountain near the mouth of the cave where the graveyard I had destroyed was in.

I exhaled slowly and pulled up my system window, letting the familiar glow of text hover before me.

[Daily Quest:]

• Sprint for 3 kilometers

• Scale a steep hill or tall tree

• Carry 25–40kg rocks or logs while walking for 10 minutes

• Evade 20 thrown projectiles from fellow goblins or traps

[Warning: Incompletion of task will lead to punishment]

I hadn’t completed a single one yet, but the day wasn’t over, and there was still plenty of time.

"Guess I might as well make it count," I muttered.

Instead of using [Warp] to reach the graveyard at the back of the cave, I started running.

Even a short sprint counted. And after a few minutes of steady running, my boots scraped against familiar ground—the graveyard.

I slowed to a stop, breathing hard, the air thick with the stale scent of soil and decay. The entire place was in ruins, the graves I’d once desecrated now reduced to shattered stones and bones.

For a long moment, I just stood there, taking it all in.

"How do I even start this?" I muttered under my breath.

Did I need to rebuild every grave I’d destroyed? Or was there another way—something faster, something that didn’t involve me suddenly turning into a craftsman? Because if it came down to manual labor, I was screwed. I wasn’t a builder; I was barely patient enough to stack rocks, let alone shape them into graves.

I walked closer to one of the broken headstones, the faint runes carved into it now fractured and dim. Kneeling slightly, I reached out and pressed my palm against the cold, cracked surface.

The stone vibrated faintly beneath my touch.

A soft chime echoed in my head as a translucent blue prompt appeared before my eyes.

[Would you like to restore the Graveyard?]

Wow... I didn’t expect that.

"Yes... Yes, please restore the Graveyard," I said aloud, giving the prompt my confirmation, and a faint chime followed. Then another.

[Restoration failed.]

[Consecrate the place first using a conduit before restoration.]

I blinked. "Conduit?" I muttered, frowning.

Then it hit me: The bone.

The one Flogga had given me. She’d told me to offer it to Lord Drugar to form a graveyard. I hadn’t paid much attention at the time, too focused on everything else happening, but now it made sense.

I opened my inventory and materialized it in my hand.

The bone felt oddly heavy, colder than it should’ve been, with dried blood staining one end of it a dull, dark brown, making me uneasy as I held it.

The first time I’d held it, I remembered feeling a crawling chill under my skin. Now... it still felt off, but I wasn’t nearly as unsettled.

Maybe I’d just grown used to things that should’ve horrified me, or maybe, after everything I’d done, bones didn’t seem so scary anymore.

Now to consecrate... how exactly was I supposed to do that?

I stood there, bone in hand, staring at the broken graves like they were going to whisper instructions. Maybe I should’ve asked Flogga for more details. She always seemed to know these things—rituals, potions, spiritual nonsense.

Instead, I was here winging it like an idiot.

"I, Eli, the almighty chief, consecrate this place... graveyard, form!" I announced, raising the bone high like some kind of shaman.

Silence.

Nothing happened. Not even a flicker of light.

"Of course, nothing happened," I muttered. "What was that supposed to be, a spell from a children’s show?"

I let out a long sigh, shaking my head. I needed to stop embarrassing myself and think. If this was something related to Drugar, then his name had to be part of it. He was the god the goblins served, our connection to power.

So, I adjusted my stance, held the bone more firmly, and spoke again, this time slower, clearer, and with intention.

"I, Eli, consecrate this graveyard for my clan... in the name of Lord Drugar."

The moment the words left my mouth, the air shifted, a low hum rolling through the ground beneath my feet as tendrils of black ambient mana began to swirl out from the graves, coiling upward like smoke drawn toward the bone in my hand.

"Now we were getting somewhere," I grinned, watching as that dark energy gripped it, twisting around the relic with a hunger that felt almost alive.

"Yes... It’s working," I whispered under my breath.

The bone in my hand grew hot, and I dropped it, taking a step back.

The swirling mana constricted tighter until the bone cracked, not once, but over and over, fracturing in sharp, splintering snaps before it disintegrated entirely.

In the next second, the particles scattered like dust and surged toward me.

And a faint sting bit into my finger, causing a single, precise puncture.

I hissed softly, lifting my hand to inspect it, a single droplet of blood welling up and falling to the ground.

I hadn’t expected that. It was so sudden.

I stared at the spot on my finger, puzzled. Normally, Fractured Reality protected me from minor harm, negating most external attacks automatically, yet this had pierced right through.

What this meant was that whatever I’d just triggered wasn’t something my ability could resist.

Or was it that Fractured Reality didn’t register the mana as a threat?

I couldn’t tell, and that unsettled me.

If it couldn’t recognize this as danger, what would happen if it did become one?

The drop of blood that had escaped my finger drifted downward, shimmering faintly in the dim light. The black mist stirred as if alive, stretching toward it.

Then, before my eyes, the darkness absorbed the blood, fusing with it completely until it pulsed like something that had just been given life.

I took a cautious step back, watching the scene unfold. A cold unease crawled up my spine.

Everything about it felt... wrong. The air grew thick, the ground faintly trembling beneath me. It didn’t feel like some divine blessing; it felt like I was tampering with something ancient and unpredictable.

Still, the process seemed to be working, so I held my ground, forcing myself to stay composed as the dark mist expanded, spreading outward like ink in water.

Then, suddenly...

A thunderous voice boomed across the chamber.

"WHO DARES INVOKE MY...