Undead Spirit

V1C 7: Another World.

Far away, the sky is a dark endless void.

The sky is always a murky gray, like the darkest dusk, with the gray churning above, unclear if it's cloud or fog.

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Here, there is no day or night, no concept of time.

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The forest, having lost all life eons ago, is left with only the trunks and thicker branches of towering trees.

Thin, web-like strands hang from the trees, not possibly spider webs, as no spider could survive here.

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The ground is riddled with marshes, with gray mud occasionally bubbling up.

Now and then, the skeletons of unknown creatures surface, only to be swallowed back by the mud.

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The wind carries a damp, cold scent, bringing waves of foul odors.

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This is the Otherworld, a paradise for the undead and demons.

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Wind Moon, the name given by a being named "Rog", wanders the forest without knowing how long it's been.

It can't remember where it came from, only the disgust it feels toward its own name, not understanding why.

Of course, what could a skeleton spit out?.

The dim light falls patchily on the ground and on Wind Moon.

It only wants to leave the forest, though it doesn't know why.

Perhaps it's instinct.

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Occasionally, Wind Moon feels a trickle of energy from Rog.

It knows it can't refuse Rog's commands.

This world is full of things Wind Moon can't comprehend.

But the energy is comforting, making it stronger, yet it's too scarce, like a desperate traveler in a desert waiting for a drop of water.

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Wind Moon is terribly thirsty.

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Carrying a rusty long knife, it roams the forest aimlessly, having forgotten where the knife came from.

It carefully avoids certain areas, sensing the powerful and evil presences there.

Wind Moon is clever, always finding ways to cunningly defeat other skeletons because they carry the energy that quenches its thirst.

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One day, Wind Moon found some high-quality bones, and after a misty repair, its rib count was restored to 24, feeling this was right.

The repair drained all of Wind Moon's saved energy, and without the timely energy from Rog, it wondered if it could face the first zombie it met.

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The fight was long.

The zombie's strength was overwhelming, costing Wind Moon three ribs before realizing the zombie couldn't catch it.

So, it began circling the zombie, occasionally striking to shave off some flesh.

Eventually, the zombie fell, and Wind Moon had less than 20 ribs left.

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In the Otherworld, other skeletons and zombies seem to ignore each other upon meeting.

Wind Moon doesn't understand why it feels compelled to defeat any it encounters alone, thinking, "I'm hungry. “

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In this world without time, Wind Moon continues to wander, not knowing how long it's been or how much longer it will.

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The forest seems endless.

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After the battle at the small building, Rog became interested in the playing-dead skeleton.

At night, the second floor often found Rog and the skeleton staring at each other, attempts at mental communication failing until Rog lost interest.

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Rog didn't know where the skeleton's knife came from and, after some study, decided not to delve deeper.

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As the days warmed, Rog unknowingly passed his twentieth birthday, soon leaving the magic school.

Over months, he read through most of the continental history, adventure tales, travelogues, and various notes.

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Ett, having passed the magic school exams three months prior, was now striving to become a magic knight.

As a large man, being a mage seemed wasteful.

Kate, trained by his father, became a capable fifth-level knight, perhaps more a dark knight by belief.

As for Lens and Franko, their skills improved amid their idleness, investing most of their funds into equipment, enhancing their strength beyond their levels.

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The group wasn't naturally ambitious; circumstances had forced their hand.

After the small building battle, they often encountered assailants during their escapades.

Though the Sword and Rose mercenary group wasn't large, its leader (the deceased mage) was well-liked, and Quiver had many admirers, leading to revenge attempts by some informed mercenaries.

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As the weather heated, so did the people.

On the exam day, Rog casually cast two Flame Fingers spells and passed, earning a mage's robe.

After registering at the city's Mage Guild, he officially became a low-level mage, eligible for a monthly stipend of five gold coins from the Rhine Alliance, provided he was willing to be conscripted when needed.

However, history-enriched Rog now harbored grander ambitions.

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Glasses clinked loudly together.

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"Brothers, it's been a while since we've had a proper gathering, damn all these assassins.

Tonight, we drink till we drop!" Ett, larger than a pure knight like Kate, emptied his glass in one gulp.

Kate, dignified and righteous, was also flushed and bo.

isterous.

Lens and Franko, decently handsome, were average among nobility, given the good looks of noble ladies.

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After numerous life-and-death situations over half a year, the group had formed a strong bond.

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"Friends, tomorrow I'm off to Falburg.

Alas, our gatherings will be fewer.

Do visit me, though you'll have to cover your travel expenses," Kate said, somewhat dejected.

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" Falburg? Near the Demon Forest, right? Watch out for thieves.

I've heard the Ron Kingdom's scouts have been active near there lately," Franko cautioned.

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"After my father insisted I gain some military achievements there, he could then push for my promotion.

Plus, the knight commander of Falburg and my father are old friends, offering some protection.

He even gave me that dark elf chest armor, heh, jackpot. “

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"Guys, Falburg is a great place!" Rog, energized, stood on his chair, speaking fervently, "It's near the Demon Forest and the frontline, full of adventurers! With Kate there as the cavalry captain.

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Ah, squad leader? No matter, the commander is your relative, right? We can really make something of it.

Think about it, adventurers, monster hunters, even the army, what do they need? Weapons!! If we open a weapons store, we'd make a fortune.

Others can't easily do this due to restrictions, but what restrictions do we have? Consider this, those entering the Demon Forest make their money by hunting monsters and selling the cores or pelts.

We might not have the strength to hunt monsters, but we can buy their catches.

In Fess's hands, those materials become top-notch magic equipment to sell back to adventurers.

We could make them shed layers of skin without moving a finger!".

Lens got excited, "Falburg has two hundred thousand people, lots of beauties.

With Kate there, we won't have to live like we do in the capital, always cautious.

I'm in for a partnership, Rog. “

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"Every time adventurers come up, your eyes light up.

Haven't you had enough from that last girl?" Ett teased Lens.

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"Damn it, why am I so unlucky? Even that kick was aimed at me.

Made me unable to touch a woman for a month, damn it.

But I showed her who's boss in the end!" Lens fumed.

"Is that girl still with you?" Franko inquired.

"Of course, she's well taken care of.

Couldn't let her off easily after almost costing me my lineage! How about it, brothers, shall we visit my place tonight?" The table erupted in lewd laughter.

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After more drinking, the jobless bunch decided to venture to Falburg, open a weapon store, and purchase adventurer finds.

Kate would leave first, with the rest to follow after sorting their affairs.

Fess had already been roped in by Rog, though moving his lab would take some time.

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Past midnight, the city's ne'er-do-wells staggered out of the tavern, robes stained with wine.

As they entered a dark alley, suddenly, several masked adventurers sprang out, surrounding them.

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"You scum, deserving of death! Today, I avenge Quiver," they sighed collectively, having heard such introductions at least seven or eight times before.

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The masked assailants brandished their weapons, and a mage began chanting.

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A crossbow bolt suddenly struck the mage in the chest, Rog now infamous as a mage slayer.

The others drew their fully armed selves from beneath their robes, no longer appearing drunk.

Coordinated, they attacked the nearest masked figure, who, caught off guard, rolled into a ditch to avoid death.

Breaking free, they fled, scattering beans in their wake, tripping up their pursuers who could only watch them vanish into the night.