The Unwanted Undead Adventurer Vol. 01 Read online

  In this case, if we were just talking about a run-of-the-mill individual, they probably would not have a single trace of divinity in them at all. But I, for one reason or another, did have a sliver of divinity in me. That said, a sliver is a sliver, so greater tasks were beyond me.

  If memory serves, this snippet of divinity originated from an event in my younger days, where I decided, for some reason, to fix a local run-down shrine of sorts. The spirits that inhabited that shrine probably saw fit to bless me, and that was that.

  Although I had been able to use the divine arts a little since then, all I had managed to do was purify dirty water so it was safe for drinking, or to clear a wound of its infections. Things like closing wounds instantly or purifying corrupted land was, and still is, unfortunately beyond me. It is, however, still a very handy life skill to have. More often than not, I find myself thanking that faerie or spirit from the bottom of my heart.

  And that concludes my explanation as to why it was difficult for me to continue in my capacity as an adventurer with only this much aptitude and ability. After all, the fonts of mana and divinity within me were small, and even I knew that I was not exactly cut out for adventuring.

  It is perhaps worth noting that individuals with the ability to command and utilize all three abilities were very rare. In fact, I do not recall encountering another quite like myself. Unfortunately, with the important factor not being quantity but the degree of aptitude and power one has, one could also say that I was extremely unlucky.

  Most individuals who aspire to be adventurers usually have a strong innate disposition to one of the three abilities—about, say, half of them were that way. Someone like me, who was neither here nor there, was very much a rare oddity. In fact, people like me would have probably just chosen a normal, non-combative job, and would live their entire lives out that way in relative peace. I, too, should have done that; at least, that’s what I would say in hindsight.

  One thing prevented me from doing as I should have, though: the fact that I had a great dream.

  From a young age, I had chased it, and have continued to do so—to become a Mithril-class adventurer. There was no way I could give up after all this time.

  But as a result of my great dream, I appeared to have ended up as a skeleton of sorts. While nothing much could be said about that right now, I still didn’t feel like I should give up. Regardless of my current appearance, I was apparently not completely dead. While I had no idea why I was still alive to begin with, I felt like I was on the luckier end of things, given that my body still moved.

  It is said that humans will find a way as long as they have life. They are able to achieve great feats precisely because they live. It was with that thought in mind that I continued to live on.

  Come to think of it, being a skeleton wasn’t entirely a bad thing. Although it was a huge problem in and of itself, in addition to not knowing if I was truly alive, I could move, and thus was not entirely helpless. There was nothing inherently wrong with thinking that I could continue to work hard from now on, even in my current form.

  Just to be sure, I gave the abilities I had when I was “alive” some short test runs. Mana, spirit, and divinity all seemed functional, having apparently followed me into the afterlife. I felt like I had more than enough to go on with these advantages. At the very least, I could say that I had quite the leg up from a typical skeleton monster of this level, who definitely would not have any of said abilities. I could probably fight with this—it was more than enough.

  It’s also worth noting that while my aspirations to evolve into a ghoul sounded alarming, I had no intentions of eating human flesh. I was doing so just to obtain a more human form. Either way, I did not recall ghouls requiring human flesh for sustenance. If I were compelled to do so by instinct or some other reasons, I would cross that bridge when I came to it.

  Perhaps I would do it in secret, or at least find some way to sate my hunger; for now though, that was not worth thinking about. More importantly, it was vital to verify the extent of my strength in combat and to continue my task of evolving into a ghoul.

  To achieve that, I had to defeat the denizens—more accurately, monsters—of the dungeon I was currently in. Justifying my actions in doing so was simple: Existential Evolution was only triggered by monsters gaining more experience and strength with time—at least, that was how the typical explanation on the matter went.

  The best textbook example of this would, ironically, be a dragon. Dragons, born as juveniles and eventually maturing over the years into an Ancient dragon, were a good illustration. However, dragons were monsters with a high amount of latent ability and power in the first place. Compared to dragons, skeletons simply remained skeletons, regardless of how much time had passed.

  Undead monsters were very much dead after all. Even if they were to spend thousands of years standing in place, they would simply just exist. Accounts of undead monsters becoming stronger simply by standing in place were virtually unheard of. The logic behind this was simple: bones were bones. A pile of dead bones did not grow.

  I once again found myself at a loss, but not for long. I had to gain experience; I had to fight.

  It was said that monsters absorb the life force of other monsters should they fall in combat. This definitely held true, both for humans and monsters, with the core difference of humans remaining human regardless of how much strength they absorbed from fallen monsters. While there were many strong, seasoned fighters and adventurers, they were still human on the inside.

  Monsters, however, differed from humans in this aspect—after obtaining a certain amount of experience and absorbed strength, the typical monster evolves into a stronger form via the phenomenon of Existential Evolution. Based on that, it would seem like my path had already been laid out for me.

  Of course, the problem of whether or not I was really a monster to begin with still remained; even so, I would be able to find out easily via trial by combat. I viewed it as a prerequisite that had to be carried out before evolution.

  As such, my first task was to locate and defeat a nearby monster.

  As for monsters that even a simple skeleton could defeat... Slimes, goblins, and other skeletons came to mind. Thankfully, they could all be found within this very dungeon. Although I was currently in an unexplored section of the Water Moon Dungeon, I did recall seeing a number of monsters on the way here.

  There were multiple theories as to why monsters existed in dungeons in the first place. All those theories, however, seemed to agree on the fact that monsters reappeared after a set amount of time once slain. The phenomenon, colloquially referred to as “re-popping,” would see monsters resurrect themselves at any time, within 30 minutes, or days, or sometimes years. Weak monsters in dungeons, in particular, were observed to reappear within approximately one hour.

  While I could not precisely determine how much time had passed since I had been eaten by the dragon, I was sure the time required for said monsters to reappear had long passed. My death, after all, did not feel like a mere five- to ten-minute affair. Though it seemed silly thinking that my biological clock would make any sense, given that I was currently a dry pile of bones, all I had to do was wait around should my estimate of time be off.

  With that in mind, I set off back toward the way I came in, having deemed this the fastest way to encounter another monster. Lifting my bony feet, I began to walk, returning to the worn path with a series of heavy steps.

  Upon actually trying to move, however, I discovered that my body was painfully heavy—I supposed that I could not fight like I was able to in life. However, the fact that I could move somehow filled my heart with relief.

  Although I was currently the weakest in the overall monster hierarchy, I was still considerably faster and stronger than an average human. I could only hope that it would somehow work out, but that could have simply been baseless optimism on my part.

  As for my weapons, I found myself still equipped with my well-worn one-handed sw
ord and armor from my previous life, so there appeared to be no problems in the equipment department. All other aspects of my combat potential, however, would have to be tested in the field.

  It did not take long for me to cross paths with another monster, only about, say, five minutes after I had set off on my quest. My opponent, for better or worse, was just like me, albeit without any kind of weapons or armor—another skeleton.

  ◆◇◆◇◆

  And so it came to be that I stood facing my adversary in the dark passageways of Moon’s Reflection. My opponent was a skeleton, just like me. A pale pile of bones, held together by the bare minimum of life force required for it to move about. It was unable to use magic, did not possess a shred of spirit, and was hardly able to channel divinity of any sort. It was, in all senses of the word, a normal skeleton.

  As I readied my sword, the opposing skeleton stared in my direction, as if affirming my presence.

  Clack clack clack!

  Its bones clashed together, releasing a dreadful sound. If I didn’t know any better, I would think it was laughing at me.

  Skeletons—

  I’d fought them many, many times in my career as an adventurer. But now, I found myself freshly revolted by their existence, perhaps due to my newfound perspective.

  Once a living thing became a pile of bones, it would definitely never stand again. However, the skeleton before me could move in spite of that, as a continued defiance of the divine laws of life and death. The more I looked at it, the more I felt that its existence in and of itself was a mockery of nature.

  It occurred to me that I was probably viewed the same way by other human beings. No matter how I spun it, it seemed impossible for me to return to Maalt as I currently was. Once again reminded of that fact, I couldn’t help but sigh. Although, I didn’t have any organs for breathing, let alone lungs. Having become nothing but bones, I suppose this much was obvious.

  I felt a fresh wave of shock wash over me at this revelation—the fact that I was now something completely inhuman was driven deep into my mind. There was not much I could do about it, though. That was just how things were now.

  Although I felt I had already digested the facts of my newfound state as a skeleton, it would seem that many other things about this development still bothered me. If anything, I felt more hesitant than ever.

  Despite that, I had no choice but to press on. I had to defeat this other skeleton before me and evolve into a ghoul at all costs! With that in mind, I put my backbone into the task, making a running start towards the opposing skeleton—

  At least, that was what I had wanted to do. The speed at which I was advancing toward the other skeleton was, for lack of a better word, painfully slow. I suppose one could define it as a sort of run; a jog, maybe. However, the speed at which I was moving left much to be desired—it did not seem like a pace suited for combat. At the very least, I was faster than an average member of Maalt’s townsfolk. But I was still decidedly slower than the common adventurer, even the lowest-ranked Iron adventurers.

  It would seem that my physical abilities had also been adversely affected by my untimely death. It was obvious, perhaps, if one thought about it. A skeleton was nothing more than a walking pile of bones. As all living things needed muscles of some sort to move, it was a miracle that skeletons could move at all—and a given that they did not move particularly well.

  As if to prove my point, the opposing skeleton’s speed was also achingly slow. Thinking back on it, all the skeletons I had met up to this point moved in a similar fashion. If anything, it could be said that their sluggishness made them the perfect prey for Bronze-class adventurers such as myself. It was possibly thanks to them that I had continued existing as an adventurer for this long. But even if skeletons were easy prey for Bronze-class adventurers, I was currently a skeleton, as well. It was surely not going to be an easy fight; this much I realized the moment I raised my sword.

  Although it was obvious that my swordplay would be a lot slower than it was in life, it was not as if I had suddenly forgotten how to swing my weapon. At the very least, I firmly recalled the basics. It was with that knowledge that I came to a simple conclusion: the only quick attack I had in my repertoire at this point in time was a simple downward swing. Just to be sure, I decided to test my theory. The results, however, were extremely disheartening.

  For one thing, it was difficult to lift my sword. This was most likely due to the changes in my musculature, or lack thereof. Even so, I was greeted with more difficulties as I tried my best to lift my weapon. The combined weight of the sword, along with the force required to reverse the direction it had been traveling in, was considerably straining.

  If my observations rang true, this was all due to a lack of muscles. In other words, all the techniques and movements that I had learned up until now could not be employed in this situation.

  Once again, it occurred to me that this was an obvious fact. After all, the techniques I had learned were used and taught by humans. There wouldn’t have been a single technique or attack that was designed for the physique of a skeleton in mind.

  Even so, I strived to work out a solution. If I simply stopped here and now, I would surely be defeated by the other skeleton and die, again. Perhaps, then, it was quite the stroke of luck that my first opponent was a sluggish and simple skeleton.

  As I was busy testing out potential sword attacks, the opponent had picked up speed and was rushing in my direction—until it promptly slipped. As a result of its unfortunate fall, my opponent’s right leg bone had apparently dislodged itself. The skeleton was now sitting on the ground in a somewhat awkward position, desperately attempting to retrieve and reattach its detached leg.

  I couldn’t help but laugh at the dark comedy of this scenario. At least, I wanted to laugh, but skeletons in general were incapable of producing such a sound. The only sounds a skeleton could make were rattling sounds, and that was about it. Without much of a choice, I decided to emulate the sound that the opposing skeleton had made when it first set eyes on me. A miserable series of clacks was the result of my attempt at laughter.

  As if enraged by my bony laughter, the enemy skeleton jammed its detached bone back into its socket, then stood up and began rushing toward me once more. It seemed like it was serious about attacking me this time.

  I couldn’t see this as a good thing—it most definitely wasn’t. Although skeletons were weak monsters, it had enough speed and power to kill a grown man—minus the typical adventurer, of course. With that being said, even the weakest Iron-class adventurer would take severe damage from such a blow.

  While I was lost in thought, the skeleton’s charge hit me straight on, and we both fell onto the ground. I nervously looked for a way to counterattack, convinced that if I simply sat and did nothing, the other skeleton would surely kill me. But apparently, that was not necessary.

  The reason for that was simple: the other skeleton simply did not attempt to attack. This was perhaps due to a combination of factors, including the fact that the momentum it was moving at, and the specific angle I was holding my sword, had caused my weapon to become firmly embedded in its skull. A truly serendipitous occurrence.

  However, that much wasn’t quite enough—the enemy was an undead monster after all. If anything, the enemy skeleton seemed more irritated by the fact that its field of vision was now blocked by a sword sticking out of one of its eye sockets, as opposed to being bothered by the fact that the sword in question was a sharp, metallic instrument in its skull. It was also far from being dead.

  Judging by everything I had seen thus far, it was fair to assume that skeletons did not possess much in the way of intellect or logic, even though they had a somewhat humanoid form. The skeleton that had attacked me was a good example, as it was thoroughly confused by the current developments, and apparently could not decide what to do.

  Capitalizing on this chance, I quickly grabbed the handle of my blade, placing what force I could onto the weapon. I had thought t
o simply push the blade through, given that it had been so conveniently impaled into the enemy’s skull. I was, however, reminded of the unfortunate fact that I was an almost-powerless skeleton. After all, bone was a material used to make armor, and it was considerably hard. The enemy’s skull probably wouldn’t shatter with what little strength I had. Even if I tried to put my body into the attack, it would not work, as I did not have much of a body to begin with.

  I found myself at a complete loss.

  I had to somehow channel more power into the blade’s hilt, no matter the cost. If this went on, I would probably be stuck mud-wrestling this skeleton forever. It was greatly undesirable for my first battle to drag on for hundreds of years.

  Drawing my mind back from its hopeless daydream, it occurred to me that I should at least attempt to use one of the abilities I had acquired in life. For all intents and purposes, I was not a normal skeleton, and I should be exploiting that fact to the fullest.

  I had become too caught up in the matter that I was currently a skeleton and had forgotten that I had defeated many skeletons in my previous life. In fact, I used to be able to defeat skeletons with nothing but brute force. I even had mana, spirit, and divinity at my disposal.

  Although normal skeletons were not aware of it, their movements were powered by magic, as well. As a result, skeletons possessed a higher measure of speed and power than the average person, hence its classification as a monster. Since I was no longer human myself, it occurred to me that I should be using my newfound capabilities as a monster as much as possible too.

  Amongst the three abilities available to me, spirit was the one that was the most suitable for an application of brute force—and as such, the most suitable for my current situation.