The Unwanted Undead Adventurer Vol. 01 Page 4

  This was a commonly observed phenomenon when slimes embraced death. With the life force supporting their gelatinous body gone, they returned to a liquid-like state, spreading out limply upon the dungeon’s floor. Simply put, the slime I had hit with my weapon was very much dead.

  I couldn’t help but be shocked at this sudden turn of events. It was beyond comprehension; after all, I had never been able to defeat a slime in just one blow when I still drew breath as a lower-Bronze-class adventurer. Even so, the truth before my eyes was undeniable.

  Due to the nature of my desperate attack, I had not been able to confirm it, but perhaps my weapon had hit the slime’s core by a stroke of luck. I would then be able to fully justify what had just happened. If anything, I should be fully prepared to not be so lucky when encountering my second slime. Caution, in this case, was a great virtue.

  More importantly, there was the matter of the slime’s jelly—the alchemical ingredient I wanted to harvest. If a slime’s fluids were to touch the ground, it would no longer be usable as a clean ingredient, so one would have to be prepared with a container on hand at the opportune time.

  Of course, if one were to attempt to do this to a living slime, the container would simply bounce off its membrane. Fortunately, this membrane was dissolved upon the slime’s death, and it felt very much like stabbing one’s arms into a bucket of jelly.

  Retrieving a container flask from my tool belt, I stuck its nozzle into the body of the dying slime, fully filling it. Although slimes shot out strong acidic fluids in life, such as with Acid Blitz, it was strangely not very acidic at all in death. In fact, adventurers who had a habit of sticking their hands in dead slimes found that their hands often ended up clean and rejuvenated. On that note, I would mention that the bodily fluids of a slime were often used in women’s cosmetics. In fact, clean slime fluid was frequently used for this very purpose, as it apparently had some medicinal properties due to its unique composition.

  While such a rare ingredient could be easily used to create higher tiers of healing potions, most of it ended up being used for cosmetics. It occurred to me that the feminine pursuit of beauty was a seemingly infinite venture.

  Was it so truly necessary to create cosmetics from monster parts...?

  Well, I suppose there was some justification for that—it is said that monster-based ingredients have significant effects on humans. The impacts supposedly range from immortality, to reviving the dead, to even turning an old man young again... Perhaps this was a natural progression in the grand scheme of things.

  Ending my internal monologue, I turned to look at the container which had now been filled up by the rapidly deflating corpse of the slime. Filling it up to the brim, I slid it out slowly from the slime’s dying goop, taking care not to spill any of the precious fluid.

  Good. This will surely sell for a fair amount of gold.

  A fair sum, indeed—perhaps even worth quite a few days of work.

  As I mentioned, clear slimes were worth their weight in gold—almost literally. To even meet such a slime, one would have to wait about an hour for it to appear once more, in addition to not contaminating the slime in combat with fire or earthen spells. In fact, there was no easy way to gather uncontaminated fluid with magic, so that was why the slime had to be defeated with brute force.

  For these reasons, it has been said to be an ingredient that was only gathered by adventurers who had suitable expanses of both stamina and strength. In fact, adventurers who could defeat slimes in a single blow could hope for even greater rewards. For someone like me, however, it would probably take up to half a day to accomplish.

  That being said, I had no means to sell this ingredient, let alone use the funds to pay for any sort of inn or accommodation. From that angle, my endeavors seemed somewhat useless.

  Leaving those thoughts aside, I once again set my mind to evolution—I had to become a ghoul at any cost.

  If I could evolve, I would be able to walk into town, and even sell the rare ingredient I had just collected. As for accommodations... Well, while I wasn’t sure about the opinions of prospective landlords, rental properties shouldn’t be all that difficult to find.

  I also needed to speak with someone about the situation at hand, someone who would not simply run away upon learning that I had become a monster of sorts. With regards to that, however, I had just the person in mind.

  As my thoughts carried on about that person and how I met them, I decided to move on from my current spot and search for my next target.

  ◆◇◆◇◆

  It was after defeating the fifth slime that day that I began to become aware of the changes in my body. Although I had sought out and fought many other monsters since then, it would seem like my initial encounter with, and subsequent defeat of, the slime was not a fluke after all. All the slimes I had encountered after the first perished in much the same way.

  My strength was quickly exceeding the point it had been at when I still lived.

  When I was a lower-Bronze-class adventurer, I did not feel any sense of progress no matter how much training I did. In fact, I did not seem to progress in any way at all. But now here I was, becoming stronger in death. I was not quite sure if I should feel happy or sad in regards to this development, although it was greatly preferable to just endlessly stagnating.

  Although I didn’t know where I would plateau at once more should I continue growing at this pace, I set such thoughts out of my mind. Instead, I decided to do what I could at this point in time—I continued to fight.

  After fighting and defeating ten more monsters, I felt a strange feeling well up from deep inside me—an almost foreign feeling that I had not felt up until this point. It was by no means an unpleasant feeling. If anything, it felt more like something was springing up from deep within me.

  However, being as cautious as I ever was, I tried my best to endure and resist it. Ultimately, my efforts were proven futile.

  A slow, crackling sound filled my entire body, the sound progressively getting louder as my body was engulfed in a warm stream of light.

  What’s happening...?

  That was the only thought my mind processed before another inexplicable thing happened right before my eyes; dried-up, shriveled flesh began appearing around the bones of my body. As if to hide the harsh white of my bones, the flesh continued to creep, before surrounding my bones altogether.

  This was very much it—I could feel it. My wishes had been granted—

  This was Existential Evolution.

  This was what was happening right now.

  I continued my internal monologue as the phenomenon continued, slowly spreading to the rest of my body. Brown flesh, dry to the point where I began to doubt if moisture even existed in its veins, started growing and wrapping itself around my arms, legs, and everything else it could find.

  Although I had been a pile of bones up until now, I had finally been blessed with flesh...!

  After a short while, the phenomenon stopped. Just to be sure, I decided to inspect my newfound lack of bony surfaces.

  As expected, flesh was firmly attached to my limbs—limbs that had been stark white sticks of bone up until now.

  However, the flesh in question was a far cry from what I used to look like when I was human. To begin with, it looked like extremely dry, thin sheets of brown stretched over what used to be white bone. In addition, my newfound flesh did not do a very thorough job of hiding my bones at all—bits and pieces of white showed through the canopy of brown.

  I felt like a pile of bones that had meat haphazardly stuck onto them. If I were to surface from the dungeon in this form, wolves, dogs, and the like would surely find me to be a delicious snack. Maybe I would be eaten.

  While my body was this way, my lack of a mirror, once again, caused me to assume that my face was identical. I was familiar with a monster that looked like this, however. Bits of dried meat clinging to bone—none other than a ghoul.

  I was now unmistakably a ghoul, the ini
tial target of my evolutionary goals.

  If memory served, ghouls looked like humans with their skin removed: with some torn flesh still attached to the bone, and with bits of the latter showing through their muscles. They also looked very...dry.

  In other words, I was absolutely disgusting—but of course, there was no way a dried corpse would look appealing. I was an undead monster. It was also obvious that no one would fancy such a form, much less aspire to somehow become similar to it. However, to me this was a huge step forward, if only because there was now flesh on my bones.

  Having experienced Existential Evolution, I was now aware of the fact that I could continue climbing up the proverbial monster hierarchy if I continued working hard. That was a fact worth celebrating.

  Undead monsters, in particular, looked more and more human the higher they climbed up the ladder. For example, if I were to become a vampire, which was an even higher existence than ghouls, I would basically become indistinguishable from a human—in which case I would be able to move around the streets of Maalt without any problems.

  In my current form, the best I could probably manage was a sneak into town—I would still be unable to walk about freely. However, I was familiar with the gate guards of Maalt. If I played my cards well, I may be able to enter and exit as I pleased.

  But of course. Although it was mostly dry meat, I did currently have a body, and as such there was one important thing I wanted to try.

  “...VAAAH... VAAAAH...”

  I valiantly tried to channel air through my throat to see if I could speak. It would seem that generating some kind of sound, at least, was possible.

  “HE... HEEH... VVO... HEH... VO. OOD... MOV... NINV... GGGUH... HEH... VVO...”

  ...

  No. This really wouldn’t do.

  Although I found myself able to speak, I was by no means fluent—or very coherent, for that matter. I suppose some practice was in order.

  On the other hand, I did greatly prefer this state compared to that of a skeleton who could not speak and could only make clattering sounds. With this, I would be able to reach a mutual understanding with any human being who entered the dungeon... Or so I hoped. Of course, the prerequisite being that the person I was speaking to did not remain actively terrified of me.

  As I continued to ponder various possibilities, a sharp sound of clashing metal interrupted my thoughts. It sounded like someone was engaged in combat with monsters a considerable distance away, as it was clearly the sound made by a sword impacting a hard surface.

  Like most of the monsters I had defeated thus far, this floor did not feature anything but weak monsters, much less any that would generate a metallic sound. From this fact alone, one could infer that the irregular sound came from an adventurer—there was no other possibility.

  This sound... A living human being was here! My heart skipped a beat at this thought.

  Thus far, I had only lived for a little more than a day in this dungeon. Most of that, however, was spent fighting monsters alone throughout the night. It made sense if one thought about it.

  Up until now, I had always entered dungeons during the day, returning to Maalt in the evenings for food. Before I knew it, however, I had become a skeleton and was unable to see any specks of hope in my future. As such, I had continued slaying monsters inside the dungeon—perhaps it was only natural that I would miss the presence of other humans.

  I wanted to speak with someone, anyone. If an adventurer was present, then so be it.

  I did, however, quickly recover from my excitement. Due to my appearance, attempting to speak with a human would be a somewhat harsh undertaking. Although I was no longer a walking pile of bones, a ghoul was still...a ghoul. If I were to approach an adventurer with this dried-out corpse body of mine, they would clearly be alarmed and promptly ready their swords for combat; a conversation would be the last thing on their mind.

  Although the result of the encounter might be a little different if I were some sort of sentient, intelligent monster species, I was currently a ghoul. My prospects were dim in that regard. As such, I chose to distance myself from the source of the sound and hide, so as not to come into contact with the adventurer in question.

  However, curiosity got the best of me—would I really be able to ignore and move away from a human being when they were so close to me?

  —No. I found myself unable to resist.

  Such was the degree of my isolation and loneliness—I wanted to see a person, no matter what.

  And so I made my choice, creeping up to the source of the sound silently. If I were discovered, I would simply escape.

  I thought peeking from the shadows would likely be acceptable. I would then hide my presence as best as possible, moving forward as quietly as I could.

  As the sounds grew louder, my heartbeat followed in tandem. A little bit more...

  I wasn’t too far now from another human being. Slowly but surely, I arrived at my destination, with the sounds of combat continuing from behind a corner.

  Remaining cautious as I crept up the path, I carefully peeked over the corner, staring beyond into the corridors of the dungeon. There, as I had expected, was another adventurer, sword drawn and engaged in combat with monsters.

  Chapter 2: Rina the Adventurer

  “...Yah!!”

  Swinging her weapon at a skeleton was a young girl whose voice seemed to ring out with more force than her swing.

  The quality of her gear, or lack thereof, was the first thing that jumped out at me. The girl was clad in cheap armor, complimented by an equally cheap one-handed sword. She was definitely a new Iron-class adventurer.

  It’s perhaps worth noting that I was very familiar with my fellow adventurers, at least those who resided in Maalt. This girl, however, was not a familiar face—hence my assumption.

  Although Iron-class adventurers would one day surpass me and were viewed as nothing more than potential rivals, I made sure to remember their faces and get to know them better—if only because that was a way by which I could prevent the endless stream of adventurers eager to make fun of my lack of talent. I made it a point to befriend them then and there, in addition to memorizing their social positions and connections, before going our separate ways.

  It was interesting to note that while I had absolutely no talent for adventuring, I was instead blessed with a good memory and street smarts, this allowing me to easily outsmart any Iron-class adventurers who were up to one no-good plot or another. As a result, my cunning was known even to higher-ranked adventurers in Maalt, and I was mostly left alone. This was also perhaps due to the fact that Maalt mostly hosted adventurers of good character.

  In addition, I also made it a point to knock a good sense of morals into ill-natured adventurers from the start of their career. This had long-term effects, eventually snowballing into an overall improvement of character amidst the adventurers of Maalt. This was one of the reasons why I hadn’t been asked by the guild to put down my sword all this time, despite being stuck in one of the lower adventurer ranks for almost a decade.

  Put simply, I was adequately scheming—in a good way, of course.

  I shifted my attention back to the young adventurer. Not only was she dressed in a complete beginner’s outfit, her prowess also left much to be desired. In fact, she actually seemed a little weaker than I had been in life.

  This was perhaps an unfair comparison, however. Any Bronze-class adventurer was easily leagues above that of their Iron counterparts. I was, after all, able to defeat a skeleton without too much trouble. Although I wouldn’t call it easy, I was definitely capable, given the fact that normal townsfolk would be saying their prayers after encountering a skeleton. Even Iron-class adventurers had to group up in twos or threes to easily defeat one.

  As such, my continued solo expeditions should at least paint me as being somewhat capable—although not to an extent that I could be proud of.

  It was with those thoughts in mind that I deemed the girl who stood before
my eyes to be irredeemably weak. Although she seemed to be putting up a valiant fight against her skeletal foe, all it took was one mistake for her foe to shift the tide, after which she would most definitely lose. That was the extent of her powers.

  However, no matter how green, an adventurer was an adventurer. In the event of her slipping up, she could easily escape—and then that would have been that. I was not too worried about her well-being; at least, that was what I thought—

  Hey, now.

  Upon closer inspection, the situation seemed a lot more dire than I had originally made it out to be. As if not completely thinking about the possibility of defeat, the young girl pressed on, attempting to overpower her foe.

  Her efforts, however, were in vain. Obviously lacking the appropriate stamina, the adventurer began to fall back, unable to keep up with her foe’s attacks. This was a potentially fatal situation, given the fact that she was currently in a narrow dungeon path with no obvious routes of escape.

  As the skeleton continued pushing the girl backward, she suddenly stopped.

  “...Huh?!”

  The girl’s back was now literally against the wall, and it would appear that she had only just noticed this.

  I shook my head. This was the trap that befell adventurers who failed to inspect their surroundings carefully. A swordswoman of her caliber, in turn, would require some space to move and swing her blade. In other words, the adventurer’s fate was sealed the moment she had trapped herself carelessly.

  As if noticing this, the skeleton she had been fighting advanced upon her, eagerly raising its arms and motioning to strike her with its bare hands.

  While the skeleton was not armed, it was, at the end of the day, very much a monster. If that blow connected with an adventurer that did not sport much in the way of defense, they would surely pass out. What’s more, if the blow landed in a critical spot, they might even end up being instantly killed. It went without saying that a normal person could not hope to endure such a blow.