**Chapter Ten: Malice**
I had underestimated the cunning of the Lord, a masterful Mage. No, the world I knew was far too narrow.
My only source of information was a book. Yet, within its pages, there was no mention of surveillance magic. Still, whether knowing would change anything was another matter; I should have at least anticipated it. The magic employed by the Lord was clearly not Necromancy, but there were no rules stating that a necromancer could only wield Necromancy. In the first place, I had no right to complain.
Countless owls emerged from the strange magic circle I had drawn, released through the window, scattering into the night forest. The only unique stroke of luck was that the Lord had not left any owls inside the mansion. However, I doubted that this fortune would help me escape my predicament.
The Lord summoned Ruu, barking sharp orders at the trembling slave.
“Ruu, when they return, feed them. Those are familiars—my eyes and ears, far more useful than you.”
“Y-yes, understood… Master-sama. And… um… what should I feed them—”
“Meat. Fresh, dripping blood, raw flesh. No need for preparation.”
Ruu trembled, but I had far more pressing concerns.
Eyes and ears. It was the worst possible scenario. I lacked the skills to evade the countless eyes of the Lord’s familiars and enjoy a night stroll. The Skeleton Knight patrolling the mansion was an excellent guard, devoid of the concept of fatigue, but it had no wisdom to report the actions of its comrades. It lacked vocal cords as well.
But those owls were different. Since they were referred to as eyes and ears, it was likely that anything they saw or heard would be immediately relayed to the Lord.
Hunting at night in this situation was—impossible. The risks were far too high. The Lord was already on high alert.
For me, night hunting held two meanings: to gather strength and accelerate my rank mutation—and to eat. And now, the latter was particularly problematic.
The rank mutation of a Shiki was not merely a simple enhancement. New weaknesses could emerge. The merits and demerits were two sides of the same coin. A Shiki possesses greater physical abilities than a Corpse Eater, nearly surpassing the latter in every aspect, but unlike a Corpse Eater, it requires sustenance to survive.
It was not a matter of possibility. It was a necessity.
What a Shiki possesses is—an overwhelming hunger. A hunger so intense it could obliterate reason.
Perhaps that was the primary reason a Shiki would attack humans, and why this undead was labeled a demon.
What I experienced at the onset of my mutation was a hell unlike anything I had faced in life. My brain burned, impulses rattled my instincts. My thoughts were consumed with the desire to “eat,” and everyone before me—the Lord, Ruu, and even the other undead under the Lord’s command—appeared as mere “food objects.”
I managed to endure that impulse and quietly set out for a nighttime hunt purely by chance. Just barely, a flicker of survival instinct had outmatched my appetite. Had there been even the slightest misstep, I would have transformed into a ravenous monster, never again able to place survival instinct above appetite.
The appetite of a Shiki was not something that could be endured through sheer willpower. The little time I had was almost gone. Based on my experience, if I went without food, a Shiki’s hunger would reach its limit in about three days.
Beyond that point, it would be a battle against reason. Last time, I lasted half a day. I would likely hold out for about that long this time as well. However, once I fell into that state, my survival instinct would be compromised.
The power of a Shiki is inversely proportional to its hunger. The hungrier I became, the weaker I grew. I did not know how low I could sink, but I had little time to spare.
Following the Lord into the hunt, I felt my strength waning. Yet, even in that state, facing a seasoned magical beast was not a problem. I had backup as well. I suppressed the smoldering hunger like a smoldering ember and focused solely on obeying orders.
I killed the living mass of meat before me, again and again. My stomach growled. Blood splattered, and warm corpses fell. Yet, I could not indulge now. If I were to reveal that I had transformed into a sentient Shiki, the Lord would surely impose restraints upon me. At this stage, my lack of strong restraints was merely a stroke of luck.
I was at a loss for what to do. Originally, I had planned to gather strength through hunting while waiting for an opportunity to strike when the Lord was asleep. However, the Lord was in a constant state of vigilance now. I was cornered.
I deflected a flying stone with my hatchet and cleaved a black monkey lurking in the trees. The unique glimmer of hope was—rank mutation. If I could undergo rank mutation and cease being a Shiki, I would no longer suffer from this hunger. It would not solve the root of the problem, but it would at least buy me some time.
Was it possible? The time it took for me to become a Shiki was about three months, far shorter than the typical six months to a year for a Corpse Eater’s rank mutation. However, the next rank mutation usually took several years.
A miracle. I needed a miracle.
I distracted myself from my hunger and swung my sword to slay the encircling Night Wolves, turning them into a bloodbath. Suddenly, the Lord spoke up, his voice laced with suspicion.
“…End, your movements seem sluggish.”
“……”
“Is something wrong? You don’t appear to be injured…”
“……”
The Lord’s murky gaze scrutinized me as if checking the quality of a piece of art. For a moment, I felt a chill, but as I remained silent, the Lord seemed to dismiss it as a figment of his imagination and issued orders to search for the next prey.
…Where did he sense discomfort?
For a fleeting moment, I felt an inexplicable irritation, but upon calming my thoughts, I realized I was fighting while desperately suppressing my hunger. It was no wonder the Lord, who always observed my battles closely, would sense something amiss. I thought I was moving as usual, but I couldn’t help but feel anxious.
I swung my weapon mindlessly. Swing. Swing. Blood sprayed, and a drop entered my mouth. I had never drunk alcohol, but perhaps intoxication referred to a state like mine now. A tremendous heat surged from the depths of my stomach, racing up my esophagus and clouding my thoughts.
Not enough. Blood alone was insufficient. My swollen appetite shook my reason, and my feet began to falter.
“What’s wrong!? End, what happened?”
My movements were clearly lacking vitality. The Lord’s sharp voice rang out.
A single drop of blood could not satiate my hunger. No good. Not yet. I must not be discovered. I had to survive.
There was no purpose. No reason. I simply wanted to—live. Even if it meant sacrificing everything for that.
I concentrated my strength in my core without letting it show on my face, overwriting the unbearable hunger with reason. I endured the creeping anxiety that felt like being scorched by fire.
And somehow, I managed to complete that day’s hunt without raising any suspicions.
Upon returning to the mansion with the Lord, Ruu, who usually did not greet us, appeared.
In the darkness, her face illuminated by the candelabrum she held looked utterly exhausted and lifeless, yet her eyes sparkled with an unsettling light I had never seen before.
A bad feeling washed over me. With an arrogant posture and a disdainful gaze, the Lord looked down at Ruu as if she were an unpleasant piece of trash, and she spoke in a trembling voice.
“Master-sama… um… I found evidence of my… my words…”
—
The battle between appetite and survival instinct raged within me. Though I should have felt no warmth, I sensed a burning heat from within my body. I had no time to concern myself with Ruu, but her two eyes were filled with a dark joy, accusing me of no harm.
Ruu guided the Lord, who was suppressing his anger, and me, who was desperately holding back my hunger, to the basement where I was usually confined.
What had she found? There were no signs of my movement in the morgue. The floor was stone, and I had been careful to leave as little evidence of my actions as possible. In any case, there were hardly any objects in the room. There was little more than a shelf and a stone slab with corpses, and I had been careful not to touch the corpses since they belonged to the Lord.
“This way, Master-sama…”
Upon reaching the basement, Ruu trembled and moved with certainty toward the shelf.
There, I finally recalled the object Ruu had discovered.
My expression stiffened, and for a brief moment, I forgot my appetite.
Ruu had reached for the second drawer from the bottom. Originally empty, it now contained the undead encyclopedia I had found, covered in dust, in the Lord’s library. After Ruu had accused me the first time, she had not returned to the library, but I had secretly carried this object away before she stopped visiting. It was part of the hidden books I had kept for my reading.
To my knowledge, neither the Lord nor Ruu had ever touched the shelf in the morgue, so I had let my guard down.
She should have destroyed the evidence at that point, knowing that I was reading a book.
Perhaps Ruu had been searching for solid proof that I had acted after being dismissed once by Lord. It was unfathomable that a woman so utterly exhausted could deceive my eyes and go to such lengths; the depths of human malice are truly boundless.
Before the suspicious Lord, Ruu lifted the tome of undead creatures, displaying it defiantly. Both I and Ruu were under Lord’s authority. Despite sharing the same position, why did she seem so intent on tormenting me?
My fingertips trembled slightly. I couldn’t move. I was paralyzed, unable to act.
“W-what do you think, Master-sama? There shouldn’t have been any books here. This one, this undead, brought the book from the library! This man is—”
Ruu’s voice quivered as she accused me. Lord accepted the offered book and fell silent for a moment, as if contemplating something, before speaking in a voice that resonated like the depths of hell.
“…And where is the evidence that this book was not brought here by you?”
“…Huh?”
I had won. It seemed that Lord’s trust in Ruu had run dry.
Lord dropped the tome to the ground. It had been gathering dust in the library, after all. To him, it must have held little value. Ruu looked up at Lord with a bewildered expression, as if struggling to comprehend the situation.
In a quiet voice, Lord continued. His tone was devoid of emotion, yet it was precisely because of this that I could tell he was genuinely furious.
“What a hopeless woman… I told you, didn’t I? The next time you make a false report… I won’t let it slide. I’ve been lenient until now, but you’ve repaid my kindness with betrayal.”
“N-no, I—”
“I have always thought that the binding spells for slaves are… defective. They should enforce absolute obedience, just as I do when controlling the undead—”
As Ruu paled and slumped to the ground, Lord spoke in a cold voice. He drew a short staff from his waist, stroking it with his left hand as he stepped closer, as if to confirm something. A sinister green light flickered at the tip of the staff. It was the same light I had seen used before, a manifestation of the magic that created undead.
Ruu’s expression was twisted with regret and terror. Her limbs had completely lost strength, and only her eyes pleaded for mercy from Lord.
“I-I’m sorry—”
“Say nothing, Ruu. You shall be reborn in faithful servitude.”
Without allowing her a moment to protest, Lord raised his staff high. His face, etched with wrinkles and fury, was illuminated by the green glow. Perhaps out of fear, Ruu was unable to flee. A warm liquid spread from her seated position, suggesting she had lost control of herself.
In my heart, I silently thanked Ruu.
It had come. The moment had arrived. Lord had turned his back to me, his focus solely on Ruu.
I suppressed my appetite and clenched my teeth. Without conscious thought, my nails quietly elongated, as if my body were urging me to feast upon my prey.
I was certain. Now was the only time. I would kill Lord—my benefactor, my nemesis. Though my strength was not at its peak, it would be more than enough to slay a soft-hearted human. If I let this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity slip away, I would never have another chance.
I held my breath. My heart ceased its beating. I was a dead thing. The advantage of being dead is the silence it brings.
My body remembered how to kill a living being. It was something Lord had taught me.
As Lord concentrated his mind, muttering the words of magic, his staff swung down toward the pitiful slave who could not be trusted.
In that fleeting moment, I unleashed my claws with all my might toward the unguarded back of Lord’s head.