They had been warned of a possible attack on their village. The information had been shared by the [Undead Messenger] who had come galloping atop their frozen steed. The moment the [Undead Mayor] received it, he tried to ask for reinforcements; he had asked for a solution, maybe even for evacuation.
But no, there would be no help coming, no salvation offered. All the messenger did was gallop to another village.
So he tried his best, digging a trap, which was very difficult since the snow kept filling it to the point where the villagers gave up. Forming a stake wall seemed useless, since this fire witch would burn it. The only thing the mayor could do was prepare and put his [Undead Peasant] in formation. He decided to hide his best combatant, [Undead Swordsman], inside houses to keep them as a reserve force.
This was the best he could do, with what he had.
The frosted wood creaked. Houses tended to have a special way to complain about cold—by punishing their dwellers—and it worked all right. The Undead body was already slow at regeneration, even with this moss…
He swiped the moss across his wrist, which provided warmth almost immediately, and it radiated through his entire body. That was almost the last of their village's supply. Soon, they would die.
The [Undead Mayor] stood. He opened the door to be met by a low blizzard. He went out to his porch and saw thirty [Undead Peasant] in formation. He had separated them into blocks of ten, each covering the village's three main roads.
In a way, he wished for the blizzard to stay strong, for their safety.
Stepping into the weakening snow, he decided that today would be another drill. He would not let this village fall.
As he was about to command the drill, something caught his eye.
Through the hazy, snow-filled air, a comet of red blitzed toward them, like a streaking meteor. Wait…what was a meteor? How did he—
The comet blasted through an entire formation, obliterating the granary beside it. Wood groaned, and the two-story granary started to collapse in a creaking wail.
The ground beneath where the ten [Undead Peasant] were charred into the earth. Snow slowly filled them, killing the dancing embers and covering the multilayered body of the [Undead Peasant].
What was that? A long-range attack of such power? How was he supposed to respond?
What was he supposed to do?
He tried to spot where that attack had come from, and he finally saw it. A red point gathered—slowly growing into the familiar comet.
Waiting would be just death.
The [Undead Mayor] ordered a charge.
He did not need to say it; the [Undead Peasant] had been assigned under his control. And the [Undead Swordsman] too—yes, he would have them flank. They were faster, so it should be possible.
With his sword ready in its sheath, he followed the [Undead Peasant], each dutifully charging toward the monster they were facing.
They charged across the flat snow, toward the pinprick of light. The Peasant had been spread thin, being taken down in numbers. Another of those comets launched, soaring through five Peasant, and that was not all—the flame streaked on through five buildings, destroying them into an incoherent heap. The sound of the dying village behind filled the [Undead Mayor] with contempt for this monster; his anger was enough to drive him to charge.
The Undead screamed, and his peasants moved even faster.
They closed in. Good, now to surround whatever this was…
A blur of shadow twanged against the snow, parting them and digging into the Undeads.
Turning to his suddenly fallen soldiers, five of them, he saw the vine creep around their necks and jab deep, tightening its hold. These vines grew from an arrow. Did they face an archer?
Then all the more reason to hurry. He kept trudging across the now heavier snow. More and more of his soldiers were being taken down. Perhaps six were left, but still more than enough to hold his attention.
The [Undead Mayor] had prepared to get shot by these strange arrows. But none came. The figure grew close, and he could make it out. Were its arrows empty? If so, then…
The Undead roared, glory awaited them. He might lose his village, but if he could bring this monster down… yes, he could be chosen for the colosseum and become a champion, maybe even a knight!
Two ears perked atop the figure, not its own ears; they came from the translucent cloak it wore. Just when he thought he was about to see its face, the archer suddenly leaped forward with a burst of movement. It appeared between two Undead and swung its bow—formed entirely from magic—splitting the Peasant’s head open. It swiftly reached for its arrows and released four around itself. His Undead Peasants fell into the snow at the same time, vines creeping up and attaching themselves to their bodies.
The [Undead Mayor] stopped, just staring at it.
The cloaked Archer drew a greenish arrow and stepped toward him.
He clutched his sword tight in both hands; all he needed to do was buy time…
The ears twitched, and the Archer turned, its hand weaving through the air, and an arrow of molten red hissed. It casually wielded such death with one sweep of its hand and launched it. The spell tore through the snow, and a brilliant spark flared across and toward the charging [Undead Swordsman]. Snow ruptured up, and his secret weapon was reduced to smithereens.
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He tried to gather courage, or anger, so he could swing this sword. He had braved the distance, and now it was in front of him. How long had the creature thought he had worked to be a Mayor? How long? For it to just casually destroy everything… Anger came, and he swung his sword.
The archer stepped close, entering his defense and knocking aside his sword by elbowing his shoulder.
He grunted, and pain ruptured his shoulder as the bone cracked. Just how powerful was this—? A gauntleted hand blasted his cheek, and his vision turned into nothingness.
--
“Mmm, not a fan of close combat,” Suna muttered. He meant to kill all the undead with his gauntlet just to train his close-combat sense. But when he saw three bulky Undead neatly arrayed…it was like they begged to be shot, so he couldn’t help it.
He sighed, looking down at the crumpled mess of flesh he made. That was a bit too far, perhaps. The [Undead Mayor] was just level ten, and now its face was an incoherent mess.
“You’re done here?”
Suna turned to see Wendy and Jack making their way to him.
“I thought you were supposed to do hand-to-hand combat, my friend. Not blasting them! You do remember we want a house to rest, right?” Jack asked, raising an eyebrow.
“But…” Suna tried to find a reason, knowing there was none. “They were bunched up, and I—I just couldn’t help it.”
Wendy rolled her eyes, and Jack just shook his head. Suna ignored them; the village still survived, well, half of it. “Look! They got a stone building,” he pointed toward what appeared to be a tower. It seemed warm enough to wait out the blizzard and rest.
And this would be their last rest before they finally went toward the Ashen Castle.
--
“Found cards!” Wendy cheered. She laid them down on the warm, orange rock floor thanks to his Emberwind. Suna wondered if she was forcing this cheerful act. Well, if she did, he was grateful for it. He had had enough of letting his unfounded guilt rule him, after all.
“Undead play cards?” Suna took one, and some kind of writing, a glyph maybe, was drawn atop the cards. They had no idea how to play these.
“Don’t ask me,” Jack said. “I no longer know more than you, Suna,” the Tiefling examined the card with his curious yellow eyes.
“We can just make up a rule,” Wendy muttered. She laid her pendulum beside her black dress and tapped her chin to think of something.
“This [Undead Shadow Rebel], can you tell me something about him?” Suna asked, as he watched the now unrelenting blizzard descend cruelly on the village. He even heard the sound of the building collapsing, thanks to him destroying its foundation much earlier.
“He was level 62, I think? It could be higher by now. The Shadow Rebel might sound like a mouthful, but it was still a proper class it gained thanks to its constant, relentless rebellion against the king. It even inspired a lot of peasants to join.”
“It evolved from peasant to champion first, right?” Jack added. “Maybe that played a factor?”
“I don’t know if these undead, which were created straight by the [Necromancer] himself, have such will. But, yes… maybe they do. There have been some executions the King has done to deter the peasants from going to the Rebel, but it had the opposite effect.”
“And this Rebel. They have Drowfication?”
“Yes, most of them do.”
“How does that work?”
“The First Stage of Drowfication,” Wendy said, chewing her lip. “Suna, you have it, right?”
He nodded.
“Well, based on what I know, the Drowfication seeks a master; it prefers the original body to be its master to take the oath of no king. But if the original body refuses, then it would rather have another as its master. If you encounter the [Undead Shadow Rebel] or anyone who has the second stage of Drowfication, then you would be offered extra stats—like twice as many—if you swore yourself to the holder of the second stage.”
That’s about what he expected, but still. “How do you know about this?”
She laid down the card, and her lips twisted in distaste. “Someone, a fellow Integrator with me, got it.”
“What happened to them?”
“She crossed the gate, the [Necromancer] offered, and she accepted… leaving me.”
“Huh,” Suna said. Well, that was tough. It could be that this Integrator didn’t know Wendy was still alive. But judging by her now-angry expression… maybe she did know. “Does she know?”
“She does,” Wendy said, not offering any more details. Instead, she said, “It’s just… ten years ago, I confirmed with Jack earlier… I will meet her again. If she is alive. I think she is.”
“Do you want to return?” Jack asked suddenly.
“I… I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Maybe I do? I do have some people, but after hearing your story of this newly integrated world from you, Suna… I know it's already been nine years past that, but that means an outside force has entered, right? Who knows what's left of the planet? Honestly, I couldn’t care less.”
“Then stay here,” Jack said.
Wendy blinked at him. “What? Here?”
“Why not? The System has promised to grant us this planet.”
“Yeah, Jack, about that. Can you tell us what the System exactly said?” Suna asked.
“Oh, right, I haven’t given the details.” Jack hummed, reading over the prompt again, no doubt. “All right, I’ll try to summarize it. The quest says it's activated because the Tiefling made it to the second depth, the [Necromancer] door.”
“Do both of you know? Outside, the world only ended at the city border,” Jack stated.
Suna had a suspicion; he never checked it, but he believed that.
“Yeah, we tried to venture out, and we were just wasting our time,” Wendy said.
“Well, the world will expand! Into this… planet. With an ecosystem and a new area to venture.” Jack grinned. “But we must kill the [Necromancer] and [Drow Seeker], while keeping both of our Thiefmasters, James and Floundea, alive. If both of them die,” Jack’s hand tightened around his spear, “then the Tiefling lose, and will lose their mind to the Drow or the Undead.”
Lose their mind? As in, they would be mind-controlled by the System? Yeah, this made the negotiation a thing of the past.
“A new wide world, unexplored,” Wendy muttered. “That sounds exciting.”
“Isn’t it?” Jack smiled. “So stay, both of you.”
“Jack, you know I can’t,” Suna said. It did sound exciting. Maybe even more exciting than returning to his world. But with his intent to find his family, the pact he made with Delia, and the quest of the rabb—
“Why?” Wendy perked up in curiosity.
“He got seduced by the Undead Witch.”
“No, I didn’t,” Suna glowered. “I forced her to work for me!”
Wendy’s eyes narrowed on him, and her lips drew into a smooth line. “I saw her before, so I kinda get it. But she was an Undead…”
Suna stifled a sigh. There would be no winning this. Instead, he focused on the quest. It seemed straightforward enough. Kill the leader…
Leader…
Realization struck him, and Suna brought his palm to his forehead.
Dammit.
“What is it?” Jack asked.
“The Drow Seeker! It has become a leader. Jack, it can grow stronger, not limited by the System. And it has natural Drowfication… Who knows what stage she is at now? Now she has an entire tower full of Drows made much stronger thanks to her.”
Jack, instead of panicking, calmly smoothed his hand over his spear shaft. “I suppose so.”
“You suppose? Haven’t you been listening to Wendy? Their stats…”
“Will double,” Wendy added.
“Yes, but at the same time, I never expected this to be easy. I was scared—scared it might all be fake. Especially knowing my ancestor was created by the System solely for these tutorials. And now, this quest and this [Drow Seeker] are great obstacles to face. If anything, without the [Drow Seeker] and the [Necromancer], I would have doubted this whole thing was real—how we’re now given a path to our own autonomy instead of being used as props for the Integrator. So yes, Suna, their existence excites me because they’re proof that to get this great reward, we have to rise above them. That’s why, my friend, let’s begin the first task. To the Ashen Castle. We will train to handle this Drow-ified undead, then hunt down the [Undead Shadow Rebel], then the [Undead Godknight]. To the [Necromancer], and finally, we rise and face the [Drow Seeker]. The path ahead is clear.”
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