Aiden lay on his bed for several long minutes, staring up at the ceiling. Ever since the ceremony, his mind had refused to settle. The priest's words, Marcus's laughter, and that mysterious status window kept replaying in his thoughts. Grave Keeper. An unknown Class. One usable skill. Two more still locked. And a System that seemed to carefully choose the few pieces of information it was willing to reveal.
Slowly, he sat up.
"Alright... If this really is my Class, I need to figure out what it actually does."
He looked around to make sure no one could see him.
"Status."
Nothing happened. He frowned.
"Open Status."
Still nothing. He tried several different commands.
"Window."
"Interface."
"System."
"Show my stats."
None of them produced the slightest result.
He let out a sigh.
"Of course... That would have been too easy."
Just as he was about to give up, a faint vibration rippled through his mind. A translucent window appeared before him.
Aiden
Race: Human
Class: Grave Keeper
Rank: F
Level: 1
Aiden's eyes widened.
"So... you are listening."
There was no response. He studied the window carefully. It seemed to hover just a few inches in front of his face. When he reached out to touch it, his fingers passed straight through without resistance. It wasn't real. Only visible to him.
"Show Skills."
The window changed almost instantly.
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Skills
Funerary Vision Lv.1
Can perceive the traces left behind by recently departed souls.
Soul Collection
Locked.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
Summoning
Locked.
_______________________________________________________________________________________
"Are you feeling better?"
"Yes. I just needed some time to think."
"Are you going out?"
"I'd like to take a walk."
"Be careful. The young people are still talking about the ceremony."
Aiden immediately understood what she meant. The mockery. The rumors. The pity.
Even so, he smiled.
"I'll be fine."
Clara stepped over to him and absentmindedly straightened the collar of his shirt.
"You didn't do anything wrong, Aiden. Never forget that."
He gave a small nod before leaving the house. The air outside was cooler than he had expected. The village had already returned to its usual rhythm. The blacksmith hammered away at his anvil with impressive regularity. Merchants chatted in front of their stalls. Children laughed as they chased a rag ball through the streets.
Even so, he quickly noticed a change. The looks people gave him were different. Two men stopped talking as he walked past. An elderly woman offered him a smile filled with sympathy. A teenager whispered something to his friend before bursting into laughter.
Aiden continued on his way without slowing down. He had already experienced this kind of situation back on Earth. People were quick to judge. They loved putting labels on others. In a few days, something else would become the center of their gossip. At least, he hoped so. As he crossed the village square, a familiar voice called out to him.
"Aiden!"
He turned around.
Marcus was approaching with three boys who had also taken part in the ceremony. The newly awakened Rank C Swordsman still wore the same self-assured smile.
"I didn't think I'd see you again so soon."
Aiden waited calmly until Marcus stopped in front of him.
"Did you need something?"
"I just wanted to know if you'd already found a graveyard that's hiring."
The three others burst into laughter.
"Not yet."
"You're taking it pretty well."
"Would getting angry change my Class?"
"No."
"Then I'd rather save my energy."
For a few seconds, Marcus remained silent. He had probably expected a much stronger reaction. In the end, he simply shrugged.
"Suit yourself. Good luck from here on out. You're going to need it."
The four boys walked away laughing. Aiden watched them disappear around the end of the street.
"At least he's predictable..."
He resumed walking. Without really realizing it, his feet carried him to the edge of the village. The houses became fewer and farther apart. The forest began just a few dozen yards ahead. And just before the first trees stood a small plot of land surrounded by an old stone wall.
The Ashbrook cemetery.
Aiden's memories told him it was rarely visited. Families came to pay their respects during major holidays, but for the rest of the year, only a handful of elders maintained the graves. Aiden stopped in front of the iron gate.
"A grave keeper standing in front of a cemetery..."
He couldn't help but smile faintly.
"That's almost ironic."
The moment he stepped inside, a strange sensation washed over his entire body. Like an icy breath. He blinked. Then he saw it. A faint gray glow hovered just above the ground. It slowly wound its way between the graves before fading into the distance.
"What is that...?"
The glow remained visible for only a few seconds before disappearing. He looked around. The cemetery was perfectly still. The wind gently stirred the tall grass. Nothing else.
"Funerary Vision..."
His heart began to race. The skill had activated on its own. Without him doing anything. A new window appeared before his eyes.
________________________________________________________________________________
Skill Activated.
Funerary Vision Lv.1
Spiritual Trace Detected.
________________________________________________________________________________
Aiden stared at the words for several moments.
"A spiritual trace..."
The window disappeared.
In its place, the gray glow reappeared. This time, it was much clearer. It drifted slowly between the old gravestones.
As though it were inviting someone to follow it. Aiden hesitated. It was probably a bad idea. He knew absolutely nothing about this skill. He had no idea where this strange trail might lead. And yet, an irresistible curiosity was growing inside him. He took a deep breath.
"If this Class really is useless... then I probably don't have much to lose."
He took his first step. The trail seemed to react. It glowed a little brighter before continuing deeper into the cemetery. Far beyond the last graves. To a place where no one seemed to have set foot in years.