**Chapter Three: Misunderstanding**
A bear let out a pained scream and collapsed. With all my might, I swung the hatchet down at it. The blade, wielded without restraint, tore through the bear’s thick fur and sliced into its flesh. Blood splattered everywhere, yet my hands did not stop.
My body moved on its own. I could observe my situation from a distance. Blood that had splattered onto my face and into my eyes did not cause me pain. No, if I had any sense of pain at all, I should have been overwhelmed by excruciating agony right now.
My arms were thin. I had hardly ever held anything, let alone swung a sword. Could my frail arms really tear through the thick hide and flesh of a wild beast? Could my jaw, which had barely eaten anything, even manage to bite through a portion of a magical beast’s meat?
Logically speaking, it was impossible. If I fought the bear, I would lose every single time without question. Even if I were lucky enough to land a hit, there was no way I could kill the bear.
Yet, the scene before me was the complete opposite. The bear was still twitching, but the hatchet I had swung had deeply wounded its flesh, reaching down to the bone. It was clearly a fatal blow.
How had I managed to defeat such a robust creature? I had an inkling of the main reason with each jarring impact that reverberated through my arm as I swung the hatchet down.
“Enough, it’s dead. Stop.”
At the command of my Lord, my arm, which had been moving as if broken, came to a halt. My breath was steady. I felt neither fatigue nor pain. Such sensations did not exist for the undead.
I simply gazed down at my right arm, which was so bruised it looked as if it might rot away at any moment.
As far as I could tell, my right arm had not taken any damage. It was likely the result of the recoil from swinging the hatchet down with all my strength. If I had any sense of pain, I would not have been able to continue attacking. At the very least, I would not have been able to exert myself. It was that kind of injury.
No, it was not just that. The headbutt I had taken to my abdomen when I approached, and the blow from the bear’s thick foreleg that struck my left arm, both possessed enough force to render me incapable of fighting in a single hit if I had still been alive.
From my left arm, a broken bone jutted out, and fingers that had stirred deep within my brain were bent at unnatural angles.
I could attack with all my strength without worrying about injuries, pain, or fatigue. That was likely the strength of the undead. However, that did not mean my body was unscathed. The wolves that my Lord commanded bore the scars of battle as well.
The body that had been tormented by pain was now completely devoid of any sensation. This fact shocked me more than when I first realized that I had been reborn as an undead.
My Lord glanced at the bear’s corpse, then proceeded to inspect my body from head to toe, frowning.
“Is this all? No, considering you managed this much with a body that died from illness, I suppose it’s commendable. Even if you can’t be of use now, you can become useful later.”
It was a harsh remark after forcing me into battle. However, I could not retort. My Lord sighed and pointed the staff he held toward my bruised body.
He muttered a few incantations, two or three words softly spoken. It was a different spell from the healing magic I had received countless times from the white Mage while bedridden.
“Come forth from the abyss, time-stopped one, to the living dead, grant your negative power. *Reverse Force*.”
A purple light glowed at the tip of the staff, and a strange, pleasurable sensation coursed through my wounds. The bruising in my right arm vanished in an instant, and my broken left arm snapped back into place with a crack. My bones shifted within me, returning to their rightful positions. My jaw repaired itself, and the teeth that had shattered returned to their original state.
I had heard that healing magic was of high difficulty. Even for injuries like fractures, attempting to heal them with magic would cost a fortune.
I did not know if the healing magic for the undead was of the same difficulty, but it was clear that my Lord was an exceptionally skilled magician.
I had heard that casting magic came with great fatigue, yet my Lord healed my wounds without even breaking a sweat. Given that he lived deep within this forest, it was clear he was no ordinary being.
Once my Lord confirmed that my wounds were healed, he spoke with a look of disinterest.
“We’ll look for the next one. End, follow me.”
After all, that day, I would end up fighting a total of five terrifying magical beasts.
—
After the battle, I was taken back to the basement. It seemed I would primarily be kept in the basement. Perhaps I was akin to a sword for a swordsman.
Once my Lord left, I had more than enough time to think in the quiet basement.
I understood my condition well. My body could move. I felt no fatigue or pain. My night vision was keen. Now that I thought about it, my Lord’s breath had been white. The room temperature should have been low, yet I felt no chill, likely due to the characteristics of my current body.
In every aspect, my body was superior to how it had been in life, but I needed to be cautious about the fact that I might not notice physical damage due to the absence of pain.
I also realized that my Lord was a powerful Mage and had several formidable subordinates besides me. There were the Night Wolves, and on the way back, I had seen walking human bones. They were the skeletons often commanded by necromancers in stories. That was all I had seen, but in tales, necromancers controlled vast numbers of undead. It was only natural to assume there were many other undead under his command. Of course, I also had to consider my Lord’s own combat abilities.
However, I could not grasp my Lord’s true intentions. Why had he resurrected me, a body weakened by illness? If he needed a bodyguard, there were countless other options available.
Above all, what troubled me was the “discrepancy” between my Lord’s expectations and my current situation.
After a while, when my Lord’s presence had faded, I began to move again.
I approached the door quietly, carefully grasping the doorknob. The door creaked loudly, making me flinch, but there was no sign of my Lord returning.
I gently applied pressure. The door, which had initially resisted, opened quietly and easily. My eyes widened as I grasped the edge of the entrance with my right hand.
Then, I slowly stepped my right foot outside.
The sole of my foot touched the floor, stepping out of the room.
—As I thought, I could indeed leave.
When I had first been made to wait, I had been unable to escape, but now I could.
What was the difference from before?
This time, when my Lord left me behind—he had not given me any orders. The command to stay inside the room, like the first time, was absent. Therefore, I was now free to leave the room without being bound by orders.
I felt a thump in my chest, as if my heart, which should have stopped, had suddenly leaped.
This was—the discrepancy. The difference between my Lord’s expectations and my current situation.
My Lord had completely failed to anticipate the possibility of my escape. There was no way he had simply forgotten to give orders. A Mage who controlled the dead could not be so careless.
It was likely that the initial command had not been particularly intentional. It had probably been a mere offhand remark.
And why had he not considered the possibility of my escape?
If my heart had not stopped, it would have been racing with anxiety.
I was fortunate. I was grateful to my past self. It was truly fortunate that I had not spoken to my Lord when I first awakened.
Looking back, every word from my Lord had sounded like a soliloquy. Even when he commanded me—there was no hint of seeking my will.
I withdrew my foot and quietly closed the door, returning to the spot where I had stood before. It was far too reckless to wander around the mansion in this situation. At the very least, I should learn my Lord’s daily routine.
If my assumptions were correct—my Lord still did not know that I possessed self-awareness.
I lacked sufficient information, but given that I had confirmed we could communicate and that he had said nothing without me initiating conversation, I believed I was not far off. Above all, if he knew I retained self-awareness—there would surely be a “first command” he should have given.
This realization must not be discovered. I let my hands hang limply and maintained a statue-like posture. Whatever I did, I would have opportunities.
Whether I opposed my Lord or not, it was better to have more cards to play.
—
And thus, my new life began.
My role was to assist Lord Holos. My main duties were to serve as a guard and to hunt when we ventured outdoors. My Lord used me to hunt magical beasts, using the corpses of those beasts to create new undead.
I was beginning to adapt. Initially, I struggled with combat, but as I faced more foes, I learned to defeat them more efficiently. There was no longer any need for the savage method of biting.
My body felt no pain, no fatigue, and on top of that, Lord’s support was flawless. Even a novice like me couldn’t possibly lose under such favorable conditions.
Through these battles, I came to realize that Lord was not only skilled in commanding the undead and healing magic but also possessed considerable prowess in offensive spells.
He effortlessly dispatched a magical beast that I had accidentally allowed to slip past me. In an instant, it was gone without a trace. Moreover, Lord showed no emotion regarding my blunder.
At that moment, I was reminded of the terrifying power of magic. Lord did not see the magical beasts of this forest as enemies.
He was clearly stronger than I was. It was illogical to think that someone would establish a residence in a forest teeming with beasts beyond my capabilities, yet I had unconsciously assumed that this elderly Mage was not adept at combat. However, given this evidence, it seemed impossible to use the beasts to eliminate Lord.
In any case, at this stage, I had no idea what would happen to me if I were to defeat Lord. In fairy tales, undead creatures that lose their masters wander the world for eternity, but the truth remained uncertain.
By the time a week had passed, I had become capable of defeating a Night Wolf almost unscathed, regardless of what it was. I felt I had improved significantly in wielding the hatchet entrusted to me. The key to delivering a fatal blow was to use my entire body to swing through.
Standing before the Night Wolf, its skull shattered and brain matter splattered, Lord regarded me with a look of curiosity.
“Hmm… I was initially concerned, but it seems this latest corpse is quite impressive…”
“…”
Naturally, I did not respond to his words. However, I felt a sense of discomfort.
My arm, which had swung the hatchet with all its might, was not congested like it had been when I first fought the bear. In my initial battle, fear, confusion, and the power of command had caused me to exert unnecessary strength, resulting in a greater backlash. But to be able to defeat a Night Wolf unscathed in just one week seemed to indicate more than just that.
My body was frail. After years of being bedridden before my death, my muscles, bones, skin, and organs must have all deteriorated. Even if Lord’s power allowed me to surpass my limits, there should still be a cap due to my weak foundation.
Right now, my body was dead. Lord referred to me as a “Corpse Eater (Freshman).” If I were truly dead, I shouldn’t be experiencing any physical growth. Though I was still in my growth phase, I hadn’t eaten anything, so my weakened muscles couldn’t possibly have returned to their former state.
Yet—there was no doubt that I was growing stronger.
If that were not the case, it would be utterly unnatural for me to have become capable of slaughtering magical beasts like a seasoned warrior after merely a week of real combat. I certainly did not believe I had any innate talent for being a warrior.
Lord remained silent for a while, observing me, before murmuring softly.
“…Is the mutation into a ‘Ghoul’ approaching? It’s early… too early, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing…”
“Ghoul”… I recalled that it was an undead creature that preferred to feast on human corpses.
However, I knew little beyond that. My only source of information was Lord’s mutterings.
It was time to make a move.
As I gazed down at Lord’s wrinkled forehead, I steeled my resolve. I had already grasped the general lifecycle. While it was dangerous, I doubted the situation would improve if I remained idle. Moreover, if this “mutation” was indeed approaching, I needed to learn its details before it occurred.
I would explore the mansion.
Lord was a Mage and a researcher. In the room where he had resurrected me—the laboratory—there were countless mysterious instruments and several books. It was exceedingly dangerous to intrude there, but there had to be something somewhere that could explain my current situation.