**Chapter Fifteen: Negotiation**
In the courtyard of the Lord’s mansion, the moon shone quietly in the night sky.
Utilizing centrifugal force, I swung my hatchet down. The Skeleton Knight, who stood opposite me with unwavering vigilance, skillfully deflected the blow with the sword gripped tightly in both hands, retreating slightly. Each of its movements bore the weight of long training and experience.
The quality of a skeleton depends on the abilities of the original owner of the bones used in its creation. The experiences of the original are etched into the very bones. If crafted from the bones of a seasoned mercenary, a skeleton can possess formidable combat capabilities, while using the bones of an ordinary person with no combat experience results in a stark difference in performance. It may sound far-fetched, but it is said that a skeleton created from the bones of a hero from the mythic age was capable of slaying dragons.
Skeletons are among the lowest tier of undead, just like Corpse Eaters.
There are four primary origins of undead: skeletons born from bones, Corpse Eaters born from flesh, wraiths born from souls, and zombies, which are reanimated corpses that serve as the catalyst for necromancy.
While each type has its own characteristics, the differences in power are not vast. The Shiki’s I, having undergone a mutation from a Corpse Eater, surpasses the Skeleton Knight in performance, despite being clad in knightly armor and wielding a sword. Yet, in one-on-one combat, the experience gap is insurmountable.
The skull, adorned with a helm, glowed with a red light from its empty eye sockets—a testament to its resurrection through necromancy. My opponent was merely bones, while I possessed flesh and muscle. I had the advantage in strength and elemental speed, yet the skeleton was lighter on its feet, and neither of us showed signs of fatigue.
With each attack I deflected, my conviction grew.
This won’t do. I cannot hope to match the End Knight like this.
If I were to encounter this skeleton on the battlefield, victory would likely be mine. My strikes could shatter its bony form in a single blow, and I possessed a powerful regeneration ability. However, that was merely brute force, and it would not suffice against a being stronger than myself.
The End Knight is no mere mercenary. They are heroes—without a doubt, they possess skills and experiences that are worlds apart from the Skeleton Knight controlled by the Lord.
As I struggled, the Lord, who had provided me with this particularly skilled subordinate, shouted while observing my performance.
“That’s right, End! Think! Intelligence is your strength. Unleash that grievance, that emotion, that negative impulse! The abyss within you runs deep—that is the essence of the undead!”
But that was not what I desired. While it was true that an explosion of negative impulses might make me stronger, my goal was not strength. Combat was a last resort. Losing my composure would be counterproductive, making even escape perilous.
The Lord seemed to see potential in me, but I did not trust him enough to take his words at face value.
Still, some degree of strength was necessary. If I were to survive and escape the Lord, I would undoubtedly face many more battles. My desire to engage in mock combat with the Skeleton Knight rather than enhance my negative energy through hunting in the forest stemmed from a need to understand the disparity in skills and techniques—so that I would not become enamored with brute strength and find myself recklessly challenging foes in the future.
Having gauged the difference in our abilities, I swung my hatchet down with all my might, feeling the strain in my muscles. The Skeleton Knight’s sword shattered under the impact, and its bony body was sent flying, armor and all.
Yet the Lord’s Skeleton Knight remained formidable. It spun in mid-air, landing gracefully and readying itself for another stance, but the victory was already mine. Closing the distance would lead to its destruction; further combat held no meaning.
I lowered my hatchet. The black blade, crafted from some unknown metal, showed no signs of wear despite having shattered a sword. Perhaps it was imbued with magical power, much like the shadow amulet and sunshade cloak I had received when venturing outside.
“Are you satisfied, End?” the Lord inquired.
“Yes, thank you. I understand the basics now,” I replied softly.
I understood. It was impossible for me to acquire the skills of a swordsman. Whether it was due to my past reliance on raw performance or perhaps a lack of talent, I could not say. At the very least, it was not something that could be mastered overnight, and even if I did manage to learn, I had no time to accumulate practical experience.
For now, I would have to give up. It would be better to fight with the cards I had.
“Then go hunting. Time is short, but you must strengthen yourself as much as possible. You will become much stronger than simply gaining experience in technique. If you become a ‘Wanderer of Darkness,’ your power will be beyond that of Shiki. That is what the undead are capable of.”
The Lord’s words held merit. One of the reasons the undead are feared is their ability to gather the energy of death and undergo mutations that exponentially enhance their capabilities.
I nodded in agreement, and the Lord raised an eyebrow at my response, but quickly called out to Ruu, who had rushed in.
“Ruu! Provide the skeleton with a spare weapon from the armory. End must prepare for war… End, return from the hunt before dawn breaks. Do not forget that you cannot unleash your full power under the sun.”
“I understand. I don’t want to die either,” I replied tersely.
With that, the Lord snorted once and returned to the mansion. Ruu hurried over to the skeleton, which stood there weaponless. Its complexion, once improved by Senri’s magic, had already returned to its previous state.
This was my chance. In the courtyard, which was seldom used for anything other than this, there were no familiar faces among the Lord’s familiars. Most were outside, keeping watch for intruders.
Still, keeping caution in mind, I approached Ruu with a calm demeanor and spoke softly.
“Ruu, I have a favor to ask.”
“…………”
“I want to make a deal. There’s something I desperately want. It’s not significant, and it won’t conflict with the orders you’ve been given.”
“…………I refuse.”
That was a cold response, devoid of any room for negotiation. The skeleton looked at Ruu, but it lacked the intelligence to converse with an undead. I was under constant surveillance, but Ruu was not regarded with the same caution, and no familiars were watching her.
She was a slave, a weakling in the eyes of the Lord. She merely followed his orders without question, a living embodiment of the undead.
And sadly, the Lord’s expectations of her were quite low.
After all, she had never sought help even when faced with the Order of the Final Knights, the Lord’s enemies. Even if the pain of disobeying orders terrified her, she could have done something in front of the Order.
Ruu was weak. She would not survive long like this, and she likely knew it.
I crouched down, peering into her exhausted, jet-black eyes, and smiled.
“I’ll make the same offer as before. If you listen to my request, I’ll ensure that after the Lord dies, I’ll safely escort you to the city. I can even help you get by until you can manage a minimal living.”
“……Master-sama will absolutely not die. That is a meaningless assumption.”
There was no longer any hint of surprise in her demeanor. Her body and voice were steady, and her eyes held the same conviction as before. Even if Ruu had not been punished because of me, she would have given the same answer. Her world was simply that kind of world.
I decided to take a slightly more humble approach.
“Then consider it a favor. If anything happens… I’ll help you… please.”
“No, I cannot create favors. I have no right to do so. Besides, I could never repay you.”
Ruu replied in a small voice, her brow furrowing. She was right. If my life were weighed against a debt, I would undoubtedly choose the latter.
No, more importantly… Ruu likely had no intention of listening to my request.
I shifted my proposal as planned.
“Then why are you listening to my words?”
“…………What?”
Ruu’s eyes widened, and for the first time, she showed signs of distress. I felt a sense of surprise at her very human expression and continued to persuade her with a fervent voice.
“If you have nothing you want, then there’s no need to listen to my words. You could simply close your ears and walk away.”
“…………That’s a ridiculous jest. I would never… listen.”
“In truth, I understand. I am a weakling like you, Ruu, and I know what you desire, what you long for. If you bring me what I want, I will give it to you.”
“…………?”
In my previous life, I had what she sought—but Ruu, as the Lord’s pitiful slave, did not possess it.
Ruu looked up at me with a puzzled expression, but her complexion was paler than usual. Perhaps she did not even realize what she truly wanted.
I did not want to make such a proposal, but I could not weigh my life against it.
Leaning closer to Ruu’s ear, I whispered persuasive words.
As she listened and grasped the meaning, Ruu’s expression changed dramatically. It was a transformation that was nothing short of profound.
Ruu’s expression was a chaotic blend of emotions, teetering on the edge of anger, tears, and laughter.
“W-What… Ah… Such a ridiculous thing—”
“I will keep my promise…”
Ruu swallowed hard, her body trembling. Yet, any resistance she might have mustered was now futile. A single tear streamed down her cheek, tracing the line of her lower lashes. She had come to realize just how desperately she craved the Object that had brought her to this point.
“How… terrifying… Master-sama, Holos Carmen, what a dreadful… Object to desire—”
Her dry lips cursed me, but she could no longer resist. No matter how much pain she endured, she would fulfill my simple request.
Once I confirmed that there were no prying eyes around us, I felt a fleeting pang of self-loathing. Nevertheless, I leaned closer to Ruu and revealed the Object I needed.