Kuraki Kyuuden no Shisha no Ou

Except for the existence of superiors and the risk of hindering their freedom, the environment is now the best. However, I felt that the time for rebellion was approaching.

The doubts that Lord once had will continue to grow a little stronger. Lords who cut off Lou's words as lies, but in their hearts the words should be pierced like little thorns.

What was needed was to determine the optimal situation.

I stopped picking up books at night. [M] I don't think Lord Horos would listen to a slave right now, and Lew did his chores with his dead eyes, as usual, because he thought it was better to crush even one possibility.

I have already gained the minimum necessary knowledge. I must be as troublesome to Lou as Lord. [M]

More hunting time for loads. When Lord took me into the woods, he ordered me to hunt the Warcraft even more.

The order was also convenient for me. If I take damage that I can't regenerate overnight with a meal I'm secretly going to at night, I feel uncomfortable with Lorde, but I can get Lorde to treat me during the day. Lord is a ruler who needs to be overthrown one day, but at the same time, he was a comforting companion on top of all this.

The prospect was successful, and my strength grew every day, but at the same time I was getting a sense of impatience.

I can't find a clear gap. I can't see the bottom of the load. It's creepy that I don't know why I'm pulling into a forest like this, but I don't even know if I have time to look into it.

I just want to get more power if possible and be sure I can win before I try. It seems the next grade mutation from the corpse ghost will take nearly a few years. Whatever it is, waiting for it is unrealistic.

In the first place, no matter how much power you put into it - Lord has absolute command over me.

If you give me a word not to attack, that's it. The only thing I needed to do to win the road was take him to a situation where he couldn't be ordered in one blow.

The undead are powerful. My regenerative and physical abilities now far exceed those of adult men, and Lord hasn't given me orders not to harm them, so I can attack them from behind.

How can a magician? No, I don't think he can stay intact with my nails, which cut the bones off Warcraft's sturdy neck.

But failure is unacceptable. If you can't kill him with one blow, he'll tie you up with an order and crush the second raw again. That's more unforgivable to me than lying on a hospital bed.

All it takes is patience. Strength. Yes, tell yourself, push in the agony, and wait for the opportunity.

Days of hunting at the behest of evil sorcerers at night. The days of avoiding the eyes of slaves and searching for gaps in the Lord.

That's all I was satisfied with at first when I got a body that moves normally, but now those two things irritate me.

I want to get true freedom because I found out about my first temporary freedom. I'm sure people call this desire.

freedom. Those two letters feel sweeter than the taste of biting beast meat.

A visitor came to Lord just when I was stuck between risk and return, deciding what to do.

§

Lord has company.

How evil a Necromancer can be, it's hard to live completely apart from human society. Once or twice a month, the man who follows his escort and comes beyond the Devil's Forest is called a hack.

He's a little man in a thin, dirty green tengalon hat. I called the man "the hack of carcasses" in my heart.

As the name suggests, the man carries the coffin and steps through the woods. Skeletons that Lord was releasing for vigilance were also not eligible for just one line of the man.

I don't know what the detailed relationship is, but Hack's role is to replenish living supplies and corpses. Hack supplies the load with food starting supplies and fresh bodies of where he's been digging from, and receives money and - skeletons.

I know everything from the content of the conversation to apparently buying Skeleton away as a combat personnel. It's also not just a skeleton, it's a skeleton that gathered death and gained some pretty powerful power.

The use of undead is contraindicated. I'm pretty sure he's not a locust person.

For the most part, I'm not in their place of business, but this time I was rarely called from Lord.

The reception room, rarely used, had a hack with the good-looking face of a person and about five fully armed escorts.

Hack says with a round eye and an intriguing look.

"Heh... I really was still alive. It was a morbid corpse, so I thought I'd be dead soon."

"You mean noble bodies are different after all"

Lord looked up at me with a slight eye and said as he was impressed.

Perhaps the idea is a mistake. The only thing I've ever been able to survive is simply my thirst for life.

And that thirst, which dominated me as soon as I regained consciousness, has gained some strength, and even now the fine dust is not thin. On the contrary, I even feel stronger.

It's... yes, it's an urge as if the soul burns if you describe it in words. It's a fierce emotion I never felt in my lifetime that I was alive and dead the same way.

If you were to describe one big difference between the original undead and me, that would definitely be it.

But I don't even put the shards on the table, and I just quietly look down at the load.

The clouder eyes of Lord looked as if they were trying to ascertain my intelligence. But it's probably just an illusion. If Lord was convinced I was intelligent, he would give more specific orders.

"Can't you get any other aristocratic flesh?

"Give me a break. I like selling my body, but it's not supposed to come out early."

"But I'm getting it once. The body on which the end was based..."

To the words of a short load, Hack distorted its ugly face tremendously. I say it in a tone of condemnation.

"Regardless of the origin of the body, it's a promise. Coincidentally, someone tried to sell the body in his body. I talked to Mr. Holos, who was a good customer, and he made his own decision to buy it out. It's just that."

"... oh, I know.... laying on the hospital bed for a long time... irrelevant, huh? There was no sign he was working out."

Lord looks at my flesh as it wanders. [M]

The standout is right. I've been in bed for a long time. [M] The muscles of the whole body had faded and were barely survived by the healing magic of the regular white magicians.

Flesh remains a poor minister even now, with heavy labor unthinkable from its former state of running around frequently, hunting warcraft, etc.

Healthy flesh - although, of course, it was a very gratifying story for me just to have that whole body devastating, painless flesh - is, for me, the object of a longing from my lifetime. They say that if we turn 'mutations' into further compounds over and over again, there will be changes physically, so we want to survive until then at all costs.

But, well... did they sell my body?

Even with that new information, I was not surprised.

Probably because he didn't have that much strong feelings for his family. In my lifetime, I had to endure pain to the fullest, and I couldn't afford to turn my emotions on anything else.

No grudges, either.

Although my family has never come to see me in the past few years, 'nursing care' by regular White Devil mentors probably cost a fortune, and it is true that that life-extending procedure has only slightly increased my life expectancy.

It's the reach that counts in battle. Though the poor minister, it could be said that adult men did not die until they became flesh about the size of a step ahead.

Even if the reason for caring wasn't my concern, it did work for me.

And it goes without saying about selling the body to Hack.

Second, it reminds me of the basics of the undead that was written in a book on the back of my brain.

Undead says it moves based on the carelessness of the body. But the intense emotions that made me undead are probably rooted in the desire for survival rather than in the "resentment" towards the living as the general undead has.

I couldn't get a step out of bed, and I never thought about death myself, even if I was in constant pain. I don't think so.

I wanted to stay alive even when I died. I wanted to keep myself. Maybe that pure emotion gave the improbable dead meat man a lifetime memory.

My knowledge of the undead is terribly fragmented, so I can't prove it, but it doesn't matter.

Lord Horos is my benefactor, no matter where he thinks from. I'm really sorry for him.

But you can't leave him alone with 'privilege' over me.

Actually, I only have one trump card. Once you use it, you'll never use it again, that kind of bill.

It's not the kind of bill you can win if you hang up, but depending on the timing, you can defeat the load enough.

The more I kill my life and collect the energy of death, the more time I can stretch, the more powerful I become. Increases the chance of surprise attacks.

Gather information. Lord's combat capability is unknown. The appearance age of a powerful magician cannot be counted. The only thing I've ever seen is necromancy. No matter how close I say it is, I can't be too wary of old magicians. [M]

What mattered was timing.

When I was burning a dark fighting spirit without putting it on my face, Fufu Hack made a rare face.

"Speaking of which... They recently came to Engay with the Knights of the End"

"What...?... I thought you had a bad time?

"No way. All my dealers, they're just tough mouthed. Come on. But their sense of smell is real. If you want to keep in mind, you might as well not come here for a while longer"

Knights of the End. It was in some of the books I read in my lifetime, and it was in Lord's Collection.

Knights Without Borders. It is the strongest battle group in the world, giving an end to endless darkness.

In the story of Oga, he appeared as a brave man from time to time, and his presence, which cut down all threats and ordeals with his sword of light, was the longing of a child, and in fact I had a pale longing for his appearance before laying down on the hospital bed, too.

A Necromancer who wields a man's corpse and creates an undead is his enemy's end. Once upon a time, some of the picture books I still read as a child were occupied in the battle between the Necromancer and the Knights of the End. Needless to say which won.

The look on Lord's face is distorted by unprecedented anger. Apparently, it's not just the stories in the book that are about killing each other.

And that Knights of the End is - also my enemy, the unlikely living dead.

Given the harshness that was told in the children's picture books, it's impossible for them to forgive me.

"Have you followed me...? And in the next few years, they will kill us all and make us eternal slaves."

"It's not like Horos and the Knights of the End got into a fight. I'm going to temporarily retreat."

".................. wait, hack. I have something to ask for besides the usual corpse. End, go back to your usual morgue."

I don't know what you're going to ask...... I'm curious, but I can't possibly not ask for orders.

I leave the room as slowly as possible, but in the end I couldn't hear it. [M]

... well. I've heard nasty stories, but it's better than going unknowingly.

Limits shrunk dramatically. What should be done to survive?

When I got back to the morgue, I put my back on the wall, put my arms together and started thinking.