Somewhere in the astral space, in a desolate realm known as the Bone Plane, lay a region of eternal gloom—the Skeletal Graveyard.

  Death permeated every corner of this dark land, woven into the air, thick with the stench of decay. Not a single living being dared to tread upon this cursed domain, where only the unliving roamed its desolate expanse—condemned to wander for eternity without rest.

  Amidst the bleak landscape loomed a towering castle, its walls constructed from the bleached bones of the fallen and the black stone of the abyss. Within the confines of this macabre fortress resided a powerful being known as the Undead Princess. She was a Ghost Necromancer who possessed a dark and insidious power, capable of bending the very fabric of death to her will. Her name instilled fear throughout the Bone Plane and struck terror in those who heard it, but she was actually…

  With a sinister glint in her eyes, the Undead Princess surveyed her surroundings. Contrary to the legends of a monstrous queen of death, she bore the appearance of an ordinary young girl, albeit with bluish skin, bluish-green hair, red eyes, and a pair of demonic horns protruding from her temples. If she was not a spirit, she could have been mistaken for a draconic demi-human or similar.

  She held a thick tome adorned with strange symbols and ancient words. However, this was, in fact, not a tome that contained forbidden spells but a recipe book from the human world.

  “Let’s see, let’s see. What do we have here?” she murmured to herself as she flipped through the weathered pages of the tome. “Shadowroot Mushroom, bone dust, blood of the damned, high-quality rotten meat, and… Violet Mystic Flower. Where the heck am I supposed to get a Violet Mystic Flower in the Bone Plane?” She scratched her head, pondering the dilemma.

  The whole Bone Plane was nearly devoid of life, and any surviving plants would be tainted by Necro or Umbra attributes. Violet Mystic Flowers were definitely not something that could be found, even if she turned the whole plane upside down.

  “Alistar.”

  Emerging from the shadows was a Death Knight, a towering figure clad in full obsidian armor that seemed to suck in the very light around it. Towering and imposing, the skeletal knight bore a massive two-handed sword strapped to its back, and the hint of a terrible power lay within its empty eye sockets. Despite being a mere skeleton, its prowess was not to be underestimated; it could dispatch Rank 1 extraordinaries like killing a chicken. In Magus’s terms, Rank 1 extraordinaries were equivalent to Elemental Adept Magi.

  In response to her master’s call, it chomped its teeth as if attempting to convey a message.

  “What? Have we exhausted all possible substitutes as well?” Her features unnaturally elongated toward the Death Knight in an otherworldly display of curiosity. In a bizarre twist, her visage seemed to warp and melt before reforming into its usual form. “Ah, but of course! We still could use a Death Flower as a substitute.”

  Death Flowers were native plants to the Bone Plane, thriving in the Skeletal Graveyard where the negative energy was rich. However, its deadly potency was not to be underestimated. Rumors had it that a single Death Flower was so lethal that it could kill even a dragon. Using it as an ingredient for a dish was a most audacious proposal, but not so much for this Princess of the Dead.

  “Fetch me all the listed ingredients, my loyal servants!” she commanded, her voice transmitting through the whole castle. In response, a motley crew of skeletons, zombies, and other spectral beings shambled forth to carry out her command.

  Soon, the ingredients were gathered, and she proceeded to the kitchen, where she lit a fire under the large cauldron she preferred to use. One by one, she added each ingredient to the bubbling brew, each new item increasing the chaotic roiling chaos inside the oversized pot. Each addition changed the once-clear liquid, morphing it into a watery, bile-like liquid, then a sludgy goo reminiscent of tar, before finally becoming a thick, honey-like syrup with a foreboding shade of brownish-red. Each volatile reaction filled her with delight as she cackled and conjured an oar-like paddle to stir the contents of the cauldron, like some fairytale witch lovingly preparing a poisoned apple for some problematic princess.

  “And lastly, the pièce de résistance.” She smiled, plucking a pitch-black flower offered by a partially corroded skeleton at her side. She then pinched a petal of the flower and dropped it into the seething brew.

  Whoosh!

  A cloud of black smoke billowed forth, enveloping the room in a choking haze. Even the ethereal form of the Ghost Necromancer was not immune to the coughing fit that ensued until the smoke dissipated.

  Waving away the remnants of the noxious fog, she looked at the cauldron with a mixture of disgust and anticipation. “Cough. What a terrible poison, but look at this…” What had once been a clear liquid now resembled a viscous black sludge that would scare any beings, living or dead, away from it. Its stench alone was enough to inflict a fatal poison on any mortal. “Yuck. But appearances can be deceiving. Who knows, the taste may be a whole lot different.”

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  “Servants, prepare the tableware! But wait, allow me to handle this, as I’ll let you join me for this feast.”

  Hearing their master’s words, a shudder ran through the assembled undead. The skeletons’ bones rattled in their sockets while the zombies emitted shaky moans. As for the specters, they had disappeared to who knows where. If they could express themselves, they would surely plead, “No, spare us!” Even the Death Knight’s bones were clattering in fear.

  “What? Are you unwilling?” The Undead Princess’s incorporeal form was wracked with spasms—a terrifying surge of power emanated from her. Yet, the aura dissipated as quickly as it came, leaving her form unaltered. “Fear not! I am the cook, after all. My cooking skill in this whole plane is second to none.”

  Unbeknownst to her, even if she did possess superb cooking skills, it wouldn’t be enough to turn the vile ingredients available in the Bone Plane into anything more than sludge that poisoned anything it touched.

  With a flick of her hand, spectral hands set the tableware and prepared the dish. Obviously, these undead creatures lacked both the ability and inclination for proper table manners.

  “Now, partake.” She gestured toward the steaming bowls before them.

  Unable to refuse her will, the undead creatures looked at their food, their movements stiff and mechanical as they obediently dipped their heads toward the soup.

  “How is it? Delicious, right?” As she asked that, all the undead who drank the soup began tremoring. However, the result was somewhat as she had expected.

  The zombies convulsed violently as the corrosive liquid hollowed out their insides, their decaying forms collapsing in a grotesque heap as the foul soup spilled forth from their ruptured stomachs. The skeletons, at least, had a little more luck as the soup seeped through their nonexistent stomachs and spilled on the floor. The stony floor beneath then eroded while releasing a deadly gas.

  “Hmm, is it that horrible?” She lifted a spoonful of the repugnant stew to her lips. In an instant, she spat it out on the zombie beside her, causing its flesh to melt in a horrifying display. “Blergh! It tastes like rotten swamp water mixed with the stench of decay! How utterly revolting!” She protruded her tongue as if trying to erase the remaining taste.

  “What a catastrophe…” she mumbled with frustration. With a dismissive wave of her hand, she dispelled the remnants of the foul soup before slumping onto the table like someone who had lost all hope.

  “How many times does this make? Ten thousand five hundred and thirty-two?” In truth, not once had the dish been even remotely edible; almost every ingredient in the recipe book simply did not exist in the Bone Plane. Thinking about that made her hurl the recipe book at the wall.

  The undead creatures stared at her in confusion. Although undead creatures were typically unintelligent and lacked emotion, these had been accompanying her for so long that her strong mana fluctuation influenced them into developing some level of intelligence.

  “That’s it! It’s not my cooking skill that’s horrible—it’s the ingredients’ fault!” She flew into the air, regaining her spirit form. “You know that it’s not my fault, right? Right?” She turned to the nearest skeleton, awaiting its affirmation.

  The skeleton in question opened and closed its jaw, seemingly confused. She could hear the clunking of its bones grinding against each other.

  “I take that as a yes. Alistar, have the materials been gathered?” she inquired, turning her attention to the towering Death Knight at her side.

  With a silent nod, Alistar conveyed that all the necessary components had indeed been procured. The Undead Princess was pleased to hear this report.

  For millennia, she had scoured the vast expanse of the Bone Plane in search of the original space crack where she had first been imprisoned in this plane. Naturally, in that long span of time, she had considered constructing a nexus gate—a gate that was capable of bridging the gap between worlds—but without knowing the coordinates, it would be next to impossible to utilize.

  Nevertheless, when she did manage to locate the crack, it was so unstable that even though she was one of the strongest existences in this world, and none dared to question her rule for at least three thousand years, she could still be killed if she were not careful. That was why she had been scouring the entire plane, sending her army to the task of acquiring the materials needed to stabilize the crack.

  “Then, what are we waiting for? Set everything up!” she declared before disappearing into the air to prepare everything.

  The undead creature nodded, its movements jerky and disjointed, before shuffling off to carry out its master's bidding with unwavering obedience.

  The Undead Princess stood before the unstable space crack, her eyes gleaming with determination. After millennia of banishment, now was the time to return to her homeland—those who had betrayed her must have perished from the passage of time by now.

  With meticulous precision, she constructed the gate to stabilize the crack. Dark energy swirled around her, weaving together intricate runes and arcane sigils. The air crackled as the gate took shape before her, solidifying with each passing moment.

  As the gate neared completion, she issued a command. “Begin with the activation.”

  In response, her loyal undead minions placed countless mana crystals, strange stones, and treasures before the gate. Each of the treasures shimmered as they became the fuel for the gate to stabilize the crack and open the path to her long-awaited homecoming.

  With a surge of otherworldly energy, the gate hummed to life. The once chaotic surface now began to stabilize as a passageway opened. Although she couldn’t see clearly to the other side, it was undoubtedly a stark contrast to these desolate lands abounding with death energy.

  “Advance!” she commanded, her voice echoing with authority as she flew into the opened portal inside the gate, followed closely by her legions—numbering in the tens of thousands.

  This time, she would make the most delicious dishes ever created. But beyond that, the time had also come to reclaim what was rightfully hers in her homeland—the world of Seraphia.

  not going to stub any time soon since it will take around a year until the first volume of the novel is up on Amazon.