《Post-Mortem Adventuring: An Undead Progression LitRPG》 Prologue: Where We Began Y¡¯know, people say that a good story isn¡¯t always true, that the best ones bend the facts a bit to sound better. I personally don¡¯t believe that. A good story, if it¡¯s not made up, always starts with the truth. In fact, the one I¡¯m about to tell you starts with something that I know happened, because I was there. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Five minutes. Me and a friend, Elric, we we¡¯re exploring a dungeon with one of those parties for hire. Everyone else we knew had just barely left for the holidays, and we decided we¡¯d surprise them with some new gear when they returned. We needed a dungeon for that, since we didn¡¯t have much money on hand. We would collect the loot from there and sell whatever we couldn¡¯t use. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. They were all nice enough, even the embodiment of spite that was their rogue, but it¡­things went bad in the boss room. We took the thing down within maybe an hour, and we were about to go back up when¡­when they decided we were dead weight. Those five minutes I mentioned, that was how long they took to get rid of us. One minute to take us down, and another to bind us. One minute for them to leave, and two for the monsters to find us and rip our bodies limb from limb. It wasn¡¯t pleasant. It wasn¡¯t the end though. I suppose that¡¯s where the story actually began then. At the end of the end. Chapter 1 - Second Chance When people die in dungeons, they tend to be gone after that. The body is usually absorbed and a bit of their soul gets taken into the dungeon if you take too long. People don¡¯t come back to life unless you have a healer or a necromancer nearby. I didn¡¯t know where I was, but I was sure that dungeons didn¡¯t have a void space dedicated to souls. I can¡¯t really say that I woke up. I was stuck in a weird soul-dimension thing, and as far as I¡¯m concerned, souls can¡¯t sleep. It was more like I became more aware of everything, like when you get up from a nap and you just sort of take things in. I was surrounded by nothing, essentially. Just a pitch black void with little dots of color that pop up every now and then. I tried to wander, but it felt like I was trying to walk in place. After a little bit, I can actually feel myself starting to move, although it seems to only let me go in one direction. Well, I was already dead, so I could afford to follow paths provided to me by the abyss. I don¡¯t know how long I walked for but eventually I found a screen, not unlike the system messages. One simple word was on the screen, one that would change things forever. Revive. It was posed as a question, with yes and no buttons under it. I didn¡¯t want to get stuck in this purgatory if I picked no, so I just chose yes to see what¡¯d happen. A lot happened, and this is where the story starts. You¡¯ll see what happens soon. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª First thing I notice? My limbs aren¡¯t strewn all over the place. No, instead they¡¯re all attached to my body in various degrees. My left arm is hanging on by what appears to be some muscle fibers, while my right is fully attached. Same thing with my legs. Well. Not pleasant. Above me, just barely reachable with my attached arm, is a system prompt. Activate Skill: Regeneration? I click yes without thinking and everything pulls closer to my body and gets¡­stitched on, I guess? That¡¯s the only way I could describe that sensation. Once that was done, I looked around, trying to readjust to living again. I put my hand on my chest for a bit before removing it. It takes me a few seconds to realize something. I bring my hand back to my chest and pull up my status screen in a panic, confirming my fears. The way the status screens are setup, it places the name, the race, and then your stats, in that order. On mine, the race part usually says ¡°Human¡±, but now, it just says Undead. So I¡¯m a zombie or something. Why I¡¯m alive again, no idea. What revived me? No idea. The people that got me killed? You guessed it, no idea. What¡¯ll happen when I leave the dungeon? Unfortunately, I do have an idea. Undead are usually left alone unless they¡¯re branded. The brand will always signify that they were raised by a necromancer or something related to them, and it changes depending on who it was that did it. If an unbranded undead is found near a town, it¡¯s killed because it might be controlled. Actually, that reminds me. I need to check if I¡¯m branded. I look at every visible part of my body before seeing it, on my right shoulder. It¡¯s a skeletal bird that seems to have flames rippling off of the head and wings. I analyze it, thinking I might find out who resurrected me. Brand of The Phoenix The mark of the few that return sentient. You¡¯ve gone around once already, so why not do it again? Conditions: Self-resurrect after dying to forces outside of your control. Ah. So¡­I did this to myself? Well, I was always unluckily lucky. I once needed bees to complete a fetch quest and got a hive stuck on my head. And, maybe I can hide it when I get to the surface! Er, wait. Brands show up if you use identify. That would be as useful as cloth armor against a sword. Alright, I¡¯ve spent way too long just standing here, and I¡¯m burning daylight, so I should start leaving I suppose. Do I still¡­nope. They took my knife. And my shield. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. I step out of the boss chamber that I was still in and look around before seeing a skeleton that I¡¯d killed on the way down here. I had left the stuff behind since none of use thought it¡¯d be useful, and now I¡¯m glad we didn¡¯t. I pick up the [Rusty Sword] and the [Old Wooden Shield], and head on my way. It¡¯s¡­strange, slaughtering undead when I am one. It¡¯s even worse when I can vaguely understand them. When I revived, it gave me a skill labeled [Dead Language], and it lets me talk with anything that has an ounce of sapience. It¡¯s not too bad since the most complicated thing I¡¯ve heard one say is ¡°intruder,¡± but still, it¡¯s a bit of a shock. So is the sheer variety of them down here, actually. Besides the zombies, there are a bunch of subtypes I¡¯ve had to give names to. So far, there are [Grenadiers], [Archers], and [Runners], but they¡¯re all easy enough to deal with. I can just bounce back the grenades and arrows, and if I parry attacks, they get stunned for a bit. I¡¯m almost at the entrance, unfortunately. Partly because of how easily I¡¯ve leveled down here, but also because I¡¯m probably going to die in the next town I enter. I wonder how I look, because my skin doesn¡¯t look like moldy Swiss cheese, I can maybe pass for human. As I reach the entrance, cutting through the last monster I see, I hear a voice. Imagine a bass singer, just talking normally. Now add so much raspiness and gravel that it sounds like they¡¯ve been screaming for an hour straight. ¡°Who¡­who you are?¡± It¡¯s none of the guttural languages that the zombies speak, the ones that sound like you¡¯re trying to summon Asmodeus, Baal, and Lucifer all at once. No, this was English. I immediately go on guard, looking for the thing that spoke weapons ready for all the good they¡¯d do me. What kind of idiot am I that I think I can fight something that can communicate thoughts besides ¡°kill¡± and ¡°intruder¡±? As I look around, I spot it. This dungeon loves to fuse its monsters, and the floor one boss is a weird [Runner]/[Zombie] hybrid. People dubbed it the [Reaper] because of what it did. The first level was mostly plant matter, and a lot of food crops. The [Reaper] would harvest most of the things growing and scratch at them with its long claws until they were in a manageable pile. Thankfully, it was optional. As long as you didn¡¯t bother it, it wouldn¡¯t bother you. And now, here it was, talking to me. ¡°You here yesterday. With others.¡± It takes me a bit, but I realize it¡¯s talking about the other people that came down with me. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°They leave without you. Now you dead.¡± ¡°¡­Yes. How can you talk?¡± It scratched its neck in an oddly human manner. ¡°Talk, talk, could always talk. No one worth talk to.¡± ¡°People try kill me. I kill them. They don¡¯t bother again. No one want to talk.¡± I lower the sword, but keep the shield up in case this (likely) is a trap. ¡°How did you know I¡¯m undead?¡± ¡°Mana. Changed.¡± Alright, yet another thing that I need to deal with. An undead will always be affinitied to death mana regardless of higher connection to other aspects. I begin backing away, not letting it out of my sight. ¡°Right. I¡¯m going to leave now.¡± I began to back towards the entrance when it dashed towards me, not attacking but instead grasping my arm tightly. ¡°Take me with you,¡± he said, almost hopefully. ¡°Been stuck here. Want to see.¡± I considered rejecting him, but I had two reasons to allow him to travel with me. One, he was a sentient undead like me, and two, I was currently being restrained by him. He could gut me like a fish. ¡°Alright, but you need a name, and you need to learn better English.¡± He nodded his head vigorously, not saying anything. After a few moments, he dragged me towards the entrance, excited. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª ¡°Bright. Fireball hot.¡± ¡°That¡¯s what it does, and it¡¯s called a sun.¡± How long had it been since I¡¯d seen the sun? He had told me that I came in yesterday, but he was a dungeon monster and even the sentient ones had an awful sense of time. ¡°You decided on a name yet?¡± I cut through the dense vines that blocked our path and used them to wipe down my body. Bugs. They kept crawling on me trying to lay eggs. I think some of them might have, but I can just cut of that part of my body and regenerate it. ¡°Rye.¡± I stop slashing through the plants for a moment. ¡°Like the grain?¡± I stare incredulously for a moment before turning to the foliage, dumping it on the newly christened ¡®Rye.¡¯ ¡°Those will help you hide from the villagers.¡± ¡°What about you?¡± Rye moved closer. ¡°You still dead.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. I can pass for human, but you look like you were left to rot in the rain.¡± Rye didn¡¯t respond. We were about at the entrance when he asked me a question. ¡°What is your name?¡± ¡°Paul,¡± I said without hesitation. ¡°Funnily enough, it means small.¡± Rye looked me over. ¡°Not small.¡± I chuckled to myself as I cut through the last bit of brush. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right. I¡¯ll be back, and I¡¯ll have some recording stones that have things to help with your speech.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± Chapter Two - Torches and Pitchforks As I looked around the town, I wasn¡¯t surprised by the overly reinforced¡­well, everything I suppose. The windows had metal bars over them and the doors and walls had enchantments. The only place that didn¡¯t have the defenses was the tavern and that made a bit of sense. All of the fortifications were because of adventurers, with how stupid they could be, but even the worst criminals knew to not touch the tavern. Aside from the bargoers bringing down the hammer of the gods on the offending person, there was an urban legend that taverns acted like a dead man¡¯s switch, using runes to annihilate the town once it¡¯s destroyed. Either way, you didn¡¯t touch the tavern unless you wanted to get beaten like a massive helping of scrambled eggs. Eggs¡­Could I eat still? I doubt I¡¯d need to, but if eating is a luxury now, I¡¯ll be damned if it¡¯s not an affordable one. Do I even¡­no, they took all my money too. To the credit of those traitors, they were surprisingly thorough when they¡¯d disabled us. I let out a heavy sigh, thinking of ways to get money when I realize something. I¡¯m dead, and I can regenerate. The guild offers odd jobs and if I can find their place here then I can make a bit of money! I immediately start asking around, getting some stares. It occurred to me then, that I probably look like death. Literally. I¡¯d need to fix myself up soon. After about, I don¡¯t know, twenty minutes of asking around, I find a group that doesn¡¯t look at me like I have the plague and they give me directions. Turns out, the building I was near when I first entered, the tavern, was the guild and I¡¯m just really dumb. I gently open the door, savoring the sounds of life once more. It was nice outside and all, but the people were looking at me weird and the birds looked ready to dive bomb me. Here though? This feels like home. The people celebrating a completed mission, taking on new ones, and the few that passed the test to get their rank past gold? This was amazing. I went up to the desk, barely flat expression, and asked for a bronze contract. No one here would take them unless they needed the money, so there was bound to be a few. The man behind the counter gave me a sad smile, a mix of pity at what my situation probably was and gratitude that I could take some work off his hands. Yes, things were good today. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª After getting a few jobs done, me and Rye had some good stuff. Sure, we weren¡¯t swimming in money, but it was more than enough to pay for what we needed. I also managed to get Rye those stones with language lessons on them, and the way he spoke went from an illiterate three year old to someone who lived out in the countryside, accent and all. He still looked like a monster though. Apparently, he has access to the system, so we had gone and given him a class, and a rare one at that. We were still hiding in the forest, but we had enough to maybe buy a house here. And then things went bad because of course they did. After about two weeks of fighting and doing quests, I was going to start on the jobs for the week. How no one used [Analyze] on me until then, I¡¯ll never know, but when someone finally did use it, it was¡­it was a [Cleric]. And nothings wrong with being a [Cleric], but almost all of them have this holier-than-thou attitude that makes them a pain to deal with. Even a [Paladin] isn¡¯t that self righteous compared to them. And what do all holy classes ¡°have a duty to eradicate?¡± Undead, aka me. The archer nocked an arrow when I wasn¡¯t looking and fired but it buried itself in the side of the desk. I turn around, grabbing the new knife I bought from my side and I look just in time to get absolutely decked in the face by their [Fighter.] The thing about classes is that they don¡¯t really keep you from doing anything. They just make you especially good at that thing. A [Fighter] can also heal you, they¡¯re just really good at beating the crap out of things. A [Cleric] can fight like anyone else, they¡¯re just really good at healing. Downside of this though? They don¡¯t have a solid bar to measure their strength. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. I doubt this was what the guy was going for, but he catches me in the kidney with a vicious right hook and sends me flying through the guildhall walls. Thankfully, pain wouldn¡¯t be a problem due to the dead nerve endings on my skin, but somehow, the ones deeper in are still alive. How do I know this? I felt that hit in my soul. It almost had me questioning if I was dead or not. I crashed through the wall that separated the tavern from the guildhall and flew through the tavern door, landing on the ground with a loud thump before rolling into the stairs of what I think was a shop. The people at the bar stared at the group with frustration when that damn [Cleric] pointed at me, shouting ¡°He¡¯s undead!¡± They watched in a mix of awe, revulsion, and surprise as I rose to my feet. I see their eyes looking at my left side and when I look, I realize why. That punch just eradicated any flesh that was there and what was once a kidney now sat as a little meat sack, just hanging there in tatters, flapping in the wind. I used [Regenerate] and just sprinted out of there like the Devil was coming to take my soul unless I ran a marathon. I decide to take a quick peek behind me and I see everyone just charging, wielding whatever they could get their hands on. Most had the obligatory pitchfork and torch, but quite a few just had kitchen utensils. One of them threw a set of frying pans at me, but luckily their aim was awful. Instead of hitting me as intended, they landed in front of me, and I snatched them up, still sprinting. It was only when I reached the forest that I noticed I wasn¡¯t tired. Yet another advantage of being dead, I suppose. I see Rye just looking at the plants, practicing his speech, and I run over to him. ¡°Grab as much as you can carry.¡± ¡°What happened?¡± ¡°There was a [Cleric]-¡° Before I could even finish my sentence, he started panicking, grabbing everything that we left out. It was understandable, since clerics were part of a church, and like I said before, a church says they¡¯re responsible for purging the undead. Back on the road after a while, I remove one of the vines that are covering Rye and observe something. Somehow, he looks more human. His face isn¡¯t filled with holes and his features seem more defined. He just looks semi-old now. I use [Analyze] on the vines I moved, the description actually surprising me. Vein of Life A type of plant commonly found in the forests of the Vitae region. Long term exposure to the vines when cut can slowly revert organic matter to its original state. Commonly used as a substitute for rope due to its durability and mild elasticity. Well. That¡¯s nice. I¡¯m just going to ignore the regenerative part and focus on the bit where it says that it¡¯s used as a substitute for rope. I check and see the pans have holes in the handle big enough to tie them together, and lo and behold, I now have¡­two pans tied together. I grab the handle of one of them and swing it around, doing tricks with it. It¡¯s fairly fast and hitting a tree with it proves that it¡¯s powerful. I go through a list of words in my head before combining two to make a completely new one. ¡°I dub thee Panchaku. May you serve us well.¡± A system screen pops up above it. Panchaku An amalgamation of pans and nunchaku, it combines rapid attack speed with high power to make a truly devastating weapon. Effects Frontal attacks deal more damage. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª ¡°You¡¯re giving these to me?¡± Rye looked a bit surprised, facial expressions becoming clearer due to the vines fixing his body. ¡°Are you sure?¡± ¡°Positive. Your hands are strong and all, but you need a real weapon.¡± Rye nodded and took the item from me, staring in awe. It confused me, because it was really just pans, but it really didn¡¯t matter I supposed. We began walking through the forest, grabbing what we could for supplies, and we were almost in a new region of the continent. As we crossed the threshold of the Vitae region, I knew exactly where we were. ¡°What is this place?¡± I breathed in, enjoying the land around us until a large bird dived down at us. I tackled both of us to the ground, remembering that carrion birds were all too common here. ¡°The land of the capital. Vanguard.¡± Chapter 3 - Fort Pheonix As soon as I said the name of the place, another bird dived at us. There was a reason this was considered the best defended place in the continent, and it wasn¡¯t just the sheer amount of funding for the military. Plant eaters tend to be opportunistic carnivores, where if the only or best option for food is meat, they¡¯ll take it. Almost everything in Vanguard was just flat out carnivorous, and you couldn¡¯t walk a mile through the forest without getting assaulted by a deer or a frog. Hell, even the plants would try to kill you if you took too long! Most things would ignore us easily as we probably smelled spoiled, but the birds¡­are not active hunters. They¡¯re scavengers, i.e they eat dead things. Me and Rye are dead things. ¡°You call this place the land of the capital? I¡¯d hate to see what the slums look like.¡± One of the many things Rye had used to learn English was a dictionary, so he¡¯d picked up a lot of words. How he remembered them all, I¡¯ll never know. I got up on my feet, trying to rebalance and get ready to walk when I hear two things: another bird, and the sound of metal crushing bone. Along with eating sounds a few moments later. I turn around and Rye stands there, just eating the bird starting from the stomach, feathers and all. He sees me looking at him and just shrugs, as if to say that he was feeling a bit peckish and it was right there. As if he hadn¡¯t violently smacked it out of the air. I shake my head at him a bit and we begin walking again. ¡°We¡¯re not going to a town again. Not yet.¡± I look around, trying to spot a place to settle for a while. With how long we¡¯ve been out and about, it seems like a good idea to get a permanent place, and if we can¡¯t buy a house then we¡¯ll find an abandoned one. Actually, I spotted the next best thing: a small tower thing, like one of the things in the corners of a castle. It doesn¡¯t look like it¡¯s crumbling, and I sincerely doubt we¡¯ll find a better place. I shake Rye by the shoulder and gesture to the tower. He didn''t speak since he had food in his mouth, but he nodded, and that was enough confirmation for me. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª It was a slog, trying to get to the tower. Rye would slap the birds out of the air, either eating them or putting them in the bag. I would have to watch for literally anything else because of the life nana the vines gave off. I did have one expectation. The tower would somehow be a dungeon, either having a boss at the top or bottom. Dungeons were created when one of two things happened: monsters swarm in an area, or a core pops up somewhere, usually from an old possession of whoever was there. We didn¡¯t have much luck, so I would bet that it would be at the top. We were getting close at least, and we were about to find out. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª It was a dungeon. The monsters are fairly random actually, considering that the one I died in at least had a theme. This one had a mix of different species crammed into one spot. Both fortunately and unfortunately, most of them were bugs. Why it was unfortunate is obvious, but it was lucky because of the class that Rye had gotten a few weeks back. Harvester You reap what you sow. Skills Was it the best class? No. But was it useful? Yes. He could use [Gather] to pull things in and just kill them bare hands or with the pans I gave him. Anything that was left, I just stabbed until it died. We were fairly efficient, driving out the monsters if not outright killing them, and we leveled up several times. The confusion began when we reached the top. There was a monster here, a big one if the big patch without dirt was an indication. Leaning over the edge, I looked down from where we stood and saw a large crater, fairly deep and wide. Whatever was here, we had to be glad we didn¡¯t see it. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. I gestured for the two of us to make our way back down to the first floor. There was a basement too but I really didn¡¯t want to go underground again right now. We¡¯d cleared out all of the top floors, meaning we could finally start¡­settling, I guess? I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s the right word but it¡¯s the one I think of. Rye got down there first and he¡¯d already begun unloading the stuff. There were some basic furnishings, with chairs and shelves and the like. It became apparent they would need to be replaced when he put one of his books on a bookshelf and it collapsed. We began removing the vines from his body when we both heard something. A system alert. Rye pulled his screen up as we took off the last vine and we were greeted with something neither of us had seen before. An evolution. Evolutions Verdant Undead[Rare] Conditions It gave him the yes or no prompt, and we were curious what would happen, so he clicked yes. He then proceeded to collapse. I tried to grab him, but the vines we had lying around enveloped him, making a cocoon of sorts. A system screen appeared, saying the evolution would take 12 hours total. I picked up the cocoon, propping it against the wall, and tried to figure out what to do. The furniture was in bad condition. Might as well fix that. I don¡¯t have an ax on hand so my options are¡­make an ax or just use a knife to whittle it down. Neither would be easy. I went down to the forest to saw off a couple of branches to make a stone ax, collecting stray bits of wood and stone. I figured that at best I could make an oven and at worst a campfire. I was heading back up to the tower when I saw something. Next to the crater, there were circular prints in the ground about a foot and a half wide. Do I do the sensible thing and just go to the tower or do I follow the trail? ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª I¡¯ve never been great at utilizing my self preservation instincts. That was awfully apparent when I decided to follow the trail into the forest. I left the stuff by the tower so I wouldn¡¯t lose it, and went down with my knife, ready to¡­make a tactical retreat if anything happened. Yeah, that was it. The trail went deep into the forest, broken trees everywhere as the path slowly gave way to an open clearing. Laying against the largest tree was a golem, maybe two times my height. It was made of a dark metal, with white crystalline veins leading from all of the limbs to the very center of it, where a bronze orb with shadowy divots spiraled around it in a strange pattern. The head was round shaped like a knight¡¯s helmet, and where the eyes would be, there were two clear orbs, either crystal or glass. It was probably what was on the tower. I approached it and tried to use [Analyze] to see what it was, but all I could see was that it was a golem. That was the extent of what the system would say, and it only made me more curious. I stretched, trying to reach the core, and when I touched it I immediately felt something. Mana rapidly began leaving my body, most of it the typical blue. Occasionally I would see a bit of life and death mana, purple and green respectively. It all flooded the core and I pulled away after a second. The mana mixed in the core, becoming teal, and spread through the veins until it snaked up the neck and into the head. I ran off before it awakened, and I think I would¡¯ve broken my neck and died if I was still completely alive. I looked behind me, noticing the birds flying away from the spot, and also the fact I had run a mile or two in about five minutes. I can run faster now that I¡¯m dead. Why is being undead actually good? Yet another oddity, I would assume. I spent the rest of the day fixing the tower so it was actually livable, at least by human standards, and I just ¡°slept.¡± I say it like that because it¡¯s not exactly sleep. I don¡¯t dream, really. People talk about out of body experiences a lot in guildhalls. Usually they just got really high, but when I sleep, my soul leaves my body until I re-enter it or get dragged back in at dawn. I just floated around, looking over the tower. It needed a name if we would live here. I recalled the name of the brand I had and decided on ¡®Fort Pheonix¡¯ before just wandering until Rye evolved. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Vines. The first thing that Rye saw when he woke up was vines. It was surprising, to say the least, but it wasn¡¯t any more so than meeting another person like himself. Even more so was the sheer speed at which they grew. Back in the dungeon he was from, long before he became fully aware, he wouldn¡¯t have grown as strong as fast unless he managed to defeat a particularly powerful adventurer. Seeing the death mana circling his body, the bloody sword and shield, it was clear he¡¯d fought his way up. He was determined to return, and Rye wanted to see why. He was a gardener at heart, even his earliest memories being of tending to the plants, and all he could think of was the prospect of seeing the world and all the life it offered. He was a monster, sure, but he was also a dreamer. One that would try to reach their goal. He saw a light appear in front of him, and as he reached out, he knew that this would be the easiest thing they would do. The evolution was something that he gained by sheer luck, and it wouldn¡¯t happen again. Not any time soon. He touched the light, and he fully awoke, bursting from the container. Chapter 3.5 - Vox Ex Machina Watch this place for me, okay? - - - - There¡¯s too many, we need to run! What about- FUNCTIONALITY RESTORED. ERROR. OWNER [>#\*£¤~\] NOT FOUND. LAST GIVEN COMMAND: LEARN ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Crystalline eyes glowing, the golem began to stir from its long rest, slowly lifting its head as mana flowed through it once more. ENVIRONMENT UNRECOGNIZED. ANALYZING.. The golem turned its head slowly, taking in the surrounding area and attempting to match it to any data it had from when it last functioned. MATCH FOUND: VANGUARD REGION. It began to rise to its feet, moving as if it were an ape attempting to stand on two feet. It began to move deeper into the forest, red and orange leaves falling like raindrops onto its back, and it attempted to access its memory. CORE DAMAGED. MEMORIES INACCESSIBLE. ERASE? If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. It stopped purposefully moving for such a small moment that, to a normal viewer, it had never halted. PERMISSION DENIED. SECONDARY MISSION: RECOVER MEMORIES. It was a rather imposing figure, and even the more aggressive beasts wouldn¡¯t attack it. It continued moving forward, only stopping to scan things of interest, when it heard a sound. It wasn¡¯t its own body that made the sound, as the noises it made were like a rusted gate. This was a group of people. It moved towards the sound until it reached a clearing, and standing at the edge of the tree line, it saw. The sound was from a group of adventurers, at a campfire. They were very loud, but the sound was not one of fear or anger. It was one of joy. The visibly oldest one, a human, led the group in song as they celebrated their previous victory. The golem was enthralled. The thing about golems is that they need a soul, some spark of life, to actually make it work. The more complex a golem was, the more likely it was that there would be a soul rather than just a basic animating force. The way this one was designed, it had a soul, but it had been so long since the golem was active that it had all but vanished, only a wisp remaining. As it heard the song, something happened. Mana, previously only wrapping the mana core that was inside the bronze orb, began to leak in. The soul of a creature lives off of mana. To lack mana completely would be to lose oneself, and that was what happened to it until the mana leaked into the core. It became more aware, eyes glowing a bit brighter, mana flowing faster. It was only then that it took notice of the hum coming from inside. It tried manipulating the sound to match the song they were singing, and it copied them almost immediately. The song rapidly fell to silence as they noticed a long bass note being held out by none in their group. It was then that the adventurers, previously enraptured with the song, now took notice of the looming figure within the trees. The golem stopped the hum and began to approach them, rising to its full height as the people cowered in fear. It gestured to an instrument to the side of an archer, and as they played it mimicked the notes with the low, persistent hum that it made. They calmed down slightly, although not enough to stop defending themselves. Three out of the twenty that were there began to sing, hitting their shields to make a percussive sound. Everyone soon joined in, tentatively at first. It soon became apparent that the construct would not hurt them, and they played louder, more energetically, immersing themselves fully. They would go throughout the night playing with as much energy as possible. When they returned to their towns, they would give various counts of the actual adventure, but they would always say one specific thing. They found the voice of a machine. Chapter 4 - Little Garden I saw Rye burst from the shell and immediately went back to my body, where I saw him in front of me, standing there, menacingly. I realize I never actually described him earlier, so let me fix that I guess. When I first saw him, his skin was pale brown, mostly from the dirt. His body was rather boney, skin pulled tight against the visible muscle that he had. After the vines restored his body, he looked a bit more normal, skin darkening naturally to a normal shade and body filling out so he wasn¡¯t all skin and bones. Now though? You couldn¡¯t see the difference between him and a normal human. Not easily. Where there was previously exposed rotting flesh now sat something that looked like the inner flesh of a tree, rapidly hardening into a light, almost bark-like shell. Short, dark green vines grew out of his head, almost resembling hair, but not quite. His teeth, some yellowed and some rotted, were now slightly off white, like a white rose that had begun to die. The most inhuman things about him were his hands, still retaining their claw like shape, and his eyes, which were all black except for the pupils, which glowed vibrant, constantly shifting shades of green. How did I know this, you may ask? I already said that he was standing right in front of me, but I neglected to mention that he was right in my face, wearing as wide a grin as was physically possible for him, which was pretty wide. I would¡¯ve jumped back if I hadn¡¯t been on the wall. Instead, I jolted and smacked my head on the brick. I had to recover from the disorientation of hitting my head on the wall, but as I did, Rye laughed. His voice had changed as well. Still rough and low, but more like an old adventurer or a veteran, recounting tales from their youth as opposed to Hell¡¯s lowest bass singer. As he helped me up, I realized that¡­ he had no clothes now. He had been wearing a worn pair of pants on the journey here, but those seemed to have been absorbed by the pod. Thankfully, unless a monster was meant to actively breed, they wouldn¡¯t have genitalia. No one needed to see that. It was still odd to see him in this state, and the last thing I saw before turning away was a questioning frown forming on his face. ¡°What? Do I look that bad?¡± He placed emphasis on the last words, to show they were a joke. I¡¯d need to work on subtlety with him. ¡°Clothes.¡± He looked down. ¡°I guess I can see why this might be a problem.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± I rose to my feet, still averting my gaze. ¡°I was going to ask if you wanted to help me find things to fix the tower, but we need to solve¡­ this,¡± I said, attempting to gesture to his full body. He nodded in agreement and moved. I was almost to the door when, ¡°How many floors does this place have again?¡± ¡°Twenty,¡± I tossed over my shoulder. ¡°Take one if you want.¡± I had no idea what that would lead to. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª I wandered around the forest again, gathering wood and plants to use at the tower for repairs and decorations. The Fort looked in good enough condition on the outside, and the first floor acted as the basic living area, meaning we just needed to redo¡­well, everything I guess. I didn¡¯t let that discourage me though. I had an absolutely absurd amount of flowers stuffed into my pockets, along with so many fruit seeds that I could¡¯ve used them as ammunition in projectile spells. I¡¯d gathered so much wood that I could easily make a thousand chairs with half of it. I went a bit too far with collecting things. By the time I made it back to the tower, I noticed something. Roots were coming out of where the second floor was and had wrapped around the first a bit. I went inside and¡­¡±Rye.¡± I heard a skittering sound from above me and he poked his head down the stairs a few moments later. ¡°Hello. Do you have the plants?¡± I nodded an affirmation. ¡°What did you do to the second floor?¡± He waved me over, gesturing for me to go and see whatever it was that he did. He did a lot. I had to take rough measurements of the tower when I made the furnishings, and each floor was about 500 feet wide, and the base was square. Rye used all of it to grow plants. 500 square feet, absolutely filled to the brim with dirt and grasses that he could find around the tower. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. I hadn¡¯t even had a chance to see if there was anything up here. ¡°¡­Why?¡± He just sat there, with a wide smile. I sighed before walking to him, handing the plants and seeds over when I saw a mark on his arm. A brand, flashing in and out of existence as if it shouldn¡¯t be there. ¡°When¡¯d you get that?¡± I said as I gestured to the emblem. He didn¡¯t even look towards his arm. ¡°It was there when I evolved.¡± I used [Analyze] on him, to see the emblem, and got exposed to what looked like a small book¡¯s worth of information. ¡°[Condense].¡± Everything immediately shrank down, showing two main things besides the core information: the monster type, and the emblem on him. Verdant Undead When death chooses to nurture life. This is a rare evolution, typically only gained by accident or due to the creature being sapient. Just below that was the description of the brand. Brand of Paradox - Greater Marked by a being wholly contradictory, of two opposing natures, that speaks false truths and truthful lies. Conditions: Affinity to, or utilize, anything that contradicts your being. I am trying not to scream. Brands occur if a being is manipulated by another, if they¡¯re cursed, if they¡¯re blessed, almost anything if it¡¯s major enough. One way to get a brand, known for how difficult it is to gain if not a holy class, is to get a deity to take interest in you. That god or goddess will then mark you with a brand that gives a blessing, and shows they have taken interest in you. Paradox was the god of paradoxes, of contradictions, and he had just given Rye a greater blessing. I began to scream confusedly. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª After a bout of loud, confused screaming, I sat in Rye¡¯s garden, looking around at the environment he had created. That such vivid greenery was created by what was made to destroy life in the first place was amazing, and it was easy to see why Paradox took interest in him. ¡°You were very loud.¡± Rye, now clothed in the leaves of various plants, took a seat beside me and offered me a flower, a larger version of one that I brought. I took it and pulled in a deep breath. ¡°How¡¯d you make this place anyways?¡± He shrugged. ¡°Just planted things and they grew.¡± I stared at him, getting a confused glance in response. ¡°What? You know exactly how you do things?¡± I nodded my head a bit to the side, to say ¡®you¡¯re not completely wrong.¡¯ I reached up to a branch that was hanging above us and pulled off an apple, taking a bite and letting the juice drip down my chin. ¡°Do you have a name for this place?¡± ¡°No. It¡¯s just my little garden.¡± I chuckled. ¡°I need to explain the normal sizes of things to you then.¡± I took another bite of the apple. ¡­ ¡°Did you know you¡¯re marked by Paradox?¡± ¡°Who¡¯s that?¡± ¡°Just a god. He¡¯s interested in you apparently.¡± ¡°¡­You aren¡¯t joking, are you?¡± ¡°Nope.¡± He sighed. ¡°Not the weirdest thing so far.¡± We sat there till the next day. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª ¡°Rye, come on!¡± When we had both woken up, we decided that it would be a good idea to go down into the basement. We neglected to explore it when we first took the tower, so it would be a good idea to clear it before anything else. He stood next to me and helped me pull open the hatch to the basement, leading to a dark stairwell that seemed to emit a malicious aura. This would be much worse than the top half. I went down before he did, shield ready. I am going to be perfectly honest, I didn¡¯t expect to see anything too bad down here. The first monster we encountered disproved that. It was a dark green [Slime] with a skull floating in its center around where the core would be. I didn¡¯t get any time to react, as it jumped at me almost immediately. It¡¯s body slammed into the shield, fluids that would destroy the shield in minutes leaking out. Tendrils reached around towards Rye, who had pulled out the [Panchaku] in an attempt to defend himself. Flailing, he managed to land a hit on the ones closest to him, keeping them from getting to him without giving him freedom to do much else. I stabbed it with my knife, ignoring my rapidly dissolving flesh and forced it into the core. The tendrils stopped moving and I felt the pressure on my shield reduce greatly. I lowered it, seeing the near dead slime attempting to regather around the damaged core before completely stopping. I looked to Rye, frowning. If what nearly killed us just now was a slime, one of the weakest monsters to exist, how much worse would everything else be? Chapter 5 - The Descent We carefully made our way forward after the encounter with the slime, but I had to abandon the knife from the last town, with how eaten away it was. It was a nice one too, made of ¡®corrosion resistant steel.¡¯ In the hallway, there was a micro-golem that was more a flat disc than anything, moving around with a full sized long sword stuck to it. It wasn¡¯t overtly aggressive and it was stuck in a corner, so we let it be. Things got worse in the second room, and I longed for that slime soon enough. The room consisted of an iron workbench in the center, and several golem parts stuck to the walls. Balls of crystal, stone, and metal all sat in round bases on pedestals, either for display or for storage. Probably both. We moved deeper in, and everything began to shake, various golem parts coming together around what I now realized were cores, making something akin to the one I found in the forest. The pieces were mismatched for these, one having two massive arms and no legs, another looking like a deformed cadaver, a half-sized leg and an arm that was about as big as me. They both emitted a constant hum and spoke, but it was so distorted that all I could make out was the word ¡°danger¡± being repeated over and over again. Rye took one step forward and they attacked, the legless one going first. Have you ever seen a great ape run? The way it propels itself with its hands? That¡¯s what that golem did, and Rye was unable to block in time. It slammed into him, sending both flying into the hallway that led to the workshop. Heard a thundering crash followed by a single muffled swear. Before I could move to do anything, the second had struck, swinging the largest arm as it limped forward. Larger objects take some extra time to get moving, but this was a golem, a mechanical thing made for a purpose. This one was clearly made to protect, and for that you would need high power and speed. I took a hard hit to my ribs, feeling them fracture as I slammed into the shelf the cores were stored on. The golem began to wind up to strike again, but with great effort and quite a bit of pain, I managed to roll out of the way, the strike reducing the rest of the cores and the shelf to dust. It screeched, a sound that mixed ringing metal with the wailing of a tormented soul. I rose to my feet as it did so, healing from the wounds it dealt me. It wasn¡¯t fast enough though. I was barely able to dodge each hit and the system told me that each strike took a quarter of my health. When that ran out, wounds would begin to become fatal, and I doubted I would get a second chance. It struck again, but this time, I tried to catch the attack rather than dodge it. It did still harm me a bit, but it was nowhere near as bad as the full swings. It shook its arm as fast as was possible for it, attempting to shake me off, but I held on tight, if only so I could live a bit longer. It started hitting the wall, but the impact rarely harmed me, more often just breaking the stone off of it. This¡­gave me an idea. Undead are known for their surprising strength and speed. While they are rotting, they become restored after a kill and they don¡¯t have the mental limiter that humans have. I didn¡¯t have the mental limiter that a normal person would, even if I was still self aware. I began to slide down the arm and punch it, lowering my health even further. It did make a difference though, as the golem began to flail faster and toss itself into the floor and walls. Ignoring the broken bones and bleeding hands, I hit it a few more times in the chest until it broke there and tore out the core. It didn¡¯t notice for a bit, but as soon as it did, it used the smaller arm it had to try to pry me off or take the core back, but it was too slow. As the mana lights in its eyes died, it seemed to look at me with a mix of shock and anger, and let out one last sound, but it was nothing I could easily understand, a jumble of words from every language that existed, too chaotic to even try to understand, mixed with that screeching sound. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. I fell off the arm and landed on my back, the only thought I had being the desire to rest. Just a quick nap¡­ Insects began to swarm his body before long, but something was keeping them from consuming it. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Rye staggered, still recovering from the impact of the golem as it began to charge again. He moved out of the way, barely managing to focus on the fight as he tried to manipulate his plants to get the roots into the basement, but whether it was too deep or the basement was blocking them he didn¡¯t know. It charged again, this time swinging its arms out as if to grab him. It successfully did this and caught Rye in a grapple, lying on top of him before flipping him over and throwing him into the wall. The one that Paul fought had the disadvantage of slowness due to mismatched limbs, but this one seemed to have no such limitation, moving so easily and rapidly that he struggled to keep track of it. The only way he could limit its movement would be¡­ Rye looked around for a heavy object that he could strike its hands with and spotted a large stone brick. Before he could grab it, the golem struck again, tossing him to the side. As he flew through the air, Rye grasped at the brick, barely reaching it while almost tearing off his hand with the sheer speed he was thrown at. It jumped at him, but Rye managed to hit one of the hands with the chunk of stone, reducing it to nothing but a dented piece of metal. There was a difference in how it moved, being noticeably slower now, but it was still able to toss itself with the one hand and damaged arm, although it had a lesser range of motion. He struck with the brick again, and made sure to completely remove the hands before trying to remove the core. Unfortunately, it had absorbed so much life mana from Rye that it was nearing its limit, about to explode from the sheer energy inside it. Unable to think of anything else, Rye threw it into the now dead golem¡¯s head, where it exploded, destroying the shell and hitting him with shrapnel. That was the last thing he remembered. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª Paul was back in the soulscape again. At least it was a bit better than last time, where he was fully conscious as the monsters tore him limb from limb. This time, he¡¯d managed to pass out before he could fully notice the pain, but that didn¡¯t make it too much better. Those injuries¡­ they had probably killed him fairly quickly. At least he was out for most of it. He touched his side as he looked around the void, seeing something in the distance, a ball of light that cut through the dark like a long sword through grass. I approached it, not having much to do this time around. It was intangible, obviously. It was a ball of light, you touched a solid one you would probably burn to death, but this one had two unique qualities that stood out to me. One, it was a deep purple/blue mix, the colors seeming to try to push the other back every now and then. Two, it had no definite shape, constantly squashing and stretching into different forms that were never the same. I used [Analyze] on it, hoping system skills would work in this bleak, barely colored void. It did, somehow, and it was amazing. Soul of Paul Miller Type: Split (Half-human/half-monster) Blessing of the Phoenix - Rapidly heal from most wounds if the brain is mostly intact, while the soul resides in a void. Can be disabled at will of the user. I was effectively immortal, as long as I didn¡¯t just decide to give up. It also explained what this void was, a waiting area where I could actively see my soul and mess with it. I wanted to prod it more and learn what it did, but besides the fact that the system was now asking me if I wanted to revive, it was my soul, and I absolutely doubted that touching what was essentially the life force of any living thing was healthy. I selected yes on the screen once more, repeating the process that lead to me becoming undead in the first place as I waited for whatever awaited me in the physical world.