Nozomanu Fushi no Boukensha Chapter 1 English Version
CHAPTER 1
A Grasp Of The
Situation And Existential Evolution
I found myself at
a complete loss. My first thought—What
should I be doing?
For starters, it
would be fair to say that I had definitely been eaten by the Dragon. Even if I
were alive in a somewhat non-human form, I supposed I should be grateful.
Well, no. I could
not be sure—was I even alive in the first place? Skeletons were a type of
undead monster, creatures that have already died once. As such, it would be easy
for bishops and priests of the church to exorcise them with simple cleansing
magic. If anything, they were exceptionally weak monsters.
The explanation
behind Skeletons being cleansed was simple: being a sack of walking bones, they
were creatures brought forth against the divine logic of the gods. Other
explanations included the more simple “they are dead, and as such cannot exist
on this world.” Succinct, but true. This continued defiance of the divine rules
of life and death was apparently the prime reason for their weakness to said
magic.
Personally, I had
no idea if any of this held water, owing to the fact that I wasn’t a bishop or
priest in the first place. However, the general argument for it seemed sound,
and for myself at this point in time, it was a critically important piece of
information.
Plainly put, if I
were to expand upon that logic, I was definitely very, very dead. More
accurately, I was existing in the world as a dead pile of bones. This was a
very, very bad thing indeed.
As I had mentioned
a while ago, the fact that a dead being continued to exist apparently flaunted
some severe laws of the divine nature. If I were to simply saunter back into
town and enter a tavern as if nothing had happened, it would not end well. No
matter how much I would claim that I was Rentt Faina, some no-good priest who
spent all his time in the tavern from morning to night would chance upon me,
then promptly get rid of me with his stave. If this were to come to pass, my
existence would simply be erased. This was something I definitely wanted to
avoid.
Such were the
bones of the situation. On the bright side, I was still alive. Even if I were
to exist as a Skeleton and defy the laws of life and death, as far as I was
concerned, my consciousness was intact; I was still very much alive. This was
precisely why I could not simply skip back to town and carelessly get myself
killed.
Well, then, what
should I do? That was the burning question.
This was the
Labyrinth of the Moon’s Reflection; adventurers would certainly make their way
to the labyrinth as they always had, merrily killing what monsters they found
along the way. Even for a relatively beginner-oriented labyrinth populated by
weaker monsters, adventurers stronger than myself often made their way here. If
I appeared before such individuals, I would certainly be killed—for good, this
time.
Whatever, then,
should I do...?
As I continued to
think, a few strings of thought connected in my mind:
It was perhaps
safe to assume that I was now a monster of some sort. There was a certain
mysterious aspect to monsters: older and more experienced monsters tended to
evolve into more powerful versions of themselves. This phenomenon was commonly
referred to as “Existential Evolution.”
Although I was not
absolutely sure if I was a monster to begin with, I seemed to be some sort of
walking Skeleton at a glance. If that really were the case, then wouldn’t this
concept apply to me, as well?
—The whole “Existential
Evolution” thing, I mean. After all, having knowledge of monsters was sort of
an occupational requirement for adventurers. If memory served, Skeletons could
apparently evolve into flesh-eating Ghouls—at least, that was what I remembered
reading in a book about monsters some time ago.
Although Ghouls
were also a type of undead monster, and hence also went against the divine laws
governing life and death, they at the very least had a more humanoid appearance
than a Skeleton did. Rotted and dried out though it may be, a Ghoul even had
flesh. With a robe and mask, I could perhaps pass for a human—those were my
thoughts on the matter.
If I did this, I
would be able to sneak into town rather uneventfully, and I would finally get
the chance to explain the nature of this situation to my friends and
compatriots. I was, of course, very much aware of the absurd nature of my plan.
If anything, it was not very well thought-out; although this was all I had to
work with at this point in time.
I made a decision—
I would aim to
somehow trigger this Existential Evolution. I, Rentt Faina, would evolve into a
Ghoul in the Labyrinth of the Moon’s Reflection.
◆◇◆◇◆
The Existential
Evolution from Skeleton to Ghoul was the first thing I had to address. Although
I had already decided on that course of action, I was unsure of the extent of
my combat abilities. I was only a low-ranked Bronze-class adventurer that was
near the
bottom
rungs of the guild. I did, however, fare better than Iron-class adventurers,
who were the newest of the new. If I were to objectively state my combat
prowess, I would say that taking down one or two Goblins and Skeletons was
doable, and well within safe limits. I could do at least that much—
Although I
probably would not come out of it unscathed.
If there were
three or more enemies, it would perhaps be a little more difficult, but I would
still be able to win, somehow. If there were four or more enemies, I would
definitely run; if there were five, I would be done for. That was how it looked
at this point in time.
It would not be
fair, however, to call me weak. I did not have much say in the matter to begin
with, having begun my journey as an adventurer only a decade ago. But I had
been training hard for almost 20 years. In fact, I would actually like some
empathy here—I had trained for that long, but I could only do this much.
If one were to ask
why I had spent that much time and effort training, only to have nothing much
to show for it, the answer was very simple: I did not have enough reserves of
mana, spirit, or divinity. In addition, I did not have many of the abilities
required to adequately control my already meager reserves of power. It could be
said that this was a more-than-fatal issue for any budding adventurer.
Frankly speaking,
I would actually appreciate some praise for having made it thus far.
I suppose I have
not explained what magic, spirit, or divinity are. Let us talk about the nature
of mana, to start. Mana is a required prerequisite for the casting of magical
spells —the font of mysterious magical energy that some individuals are rarely born
with. If one were to put it simply, those blessed with mana at birth are able
to conjure flames and wind without the use of any tools, to cause water to flow
freely from nowhere, and to persuade the earth itself to move beneath their
feet. In more ways than one, magic is a very convenient skill.
Although the
ratios differed between the various races of sentient beings that populated
these lands, one in approximately every 50 humans was born with mana in their
being. This was no small number.
However, those
with enough mana and aptitude to actually become successful mages numbered at
one for every thousand—such was the rarity of this blessing. As long as the
user possessed a certain amount of mana, however, simple spells like the
venerable Foteia Borivaas fireball, or the Gie Vieros earthen arrow, could be
cast without too much trouble. Though, to proceed beyond rudimentary attack
spells, one would require the aforementioned combination of mana and aptitude,
which was available only to one in a thousand humans on average.
It was perhaps
worth mentioning that, while I did have some mana reserves at birth, they were
pathetically low—hardly a fraction of what one would need to become a powerful
mage. After all, I had been unable to cast any low-level attack spells despite
my long periods of training. My lack of talent in this field was painfully
apparent.
I could, however,
conjure water for drinking and embers to light campfires with. For that, I was
grateful, even if said blessings were small ones. Yet it was extremely
regrettable that I could not use magic in combat.
An explanation of
spirit would perhaps be in order. Often referred to by a plethora of other
names, such as “Chakra” or “Prana,” spirit is the life force of all living
things.
Unlike magic,
spirit is the root of all life, and as such was available to any and all living
persons. If one were to use it well, one could strengthen their own body,
augment their attacks, and even obtain stamina way above that of an average
human. However, as most individuals subconsciously used spirit as a means of
staying alive, few come to realize its true potential.
On the other hand,
even if one were to become aware of one’s own spirit, a significant amount of
training was required to use it adequately, in addition to requiring a natural
aptitude for channeling one’s life force.
In my case, I did
not have enough command over my spirit reserves to actually utilize it
effectively, even though I had become aware of its existence. But even so, I
did come up with the ability to amplify the force of a single attack by 1.5
times once in a single day— personally, I considered that ability my trump
card. Although the augmented attack did carry a significant amount of force, it
would certainly be seen as child’s play to an actual practitioner of the spirit
arts.
Last but not least
would be an explanation of divinity. I suppose you could say it is even rarer
than the blessing of mana, as most people have no affinity for it whatsoever.
It is said that divinity is bestowed unto humans by divine beings, such as gods
or faeries. Having any pool of divinity in oneself is considered a rare thing
indeed, and most people blessed with it find themselves working for the church.
Depending on how
one uses it, divinity is known for enabling the use of healing and cleansing
spells which, on a rudimentary level, could be used to heal illnesses or purify
the undead. Wielders of greater fonts of divinity are even able to purify vast
tracts of corrupted land.
In addition, due
to its nature as an ability bestowed by divine beings, the lucky few with
divinity in them find themselves able to communicate with faeries and gods. In
some cases, they even rise to prominent social positions.
In this case, if
we were just talking about a run-of-the-mill individual, they probably
would not have a
single trace of divinity in them at all. But I, for one reason or another, did have a sliver of divinity in me.
With that being said, a sliver is a sliver, so greater tasks were beyond me.
If memory serves,
this snippet of divinity originated from an event in my younger days, where I
decided, for some reason, to fix a local run-down shrine of sorts. The spirits
that inhabited that shrine probably saw fit to bless me, and that was that.
Although I had
been able to use the divine arts a little since then, all I had managed to do
was purify dirty water so it was safe for drinking, or to clear a wound of its
infections. Things like closing wounds instantly or purifying corrupted land
was, and still is, unfortunately beyond me.
It is, however,
still a very handy life skill to have. More often than not I find myself
thanking that faerie or spirit from the bottom of my heart.
And that concludes
my explanation as to why it was difficult for me to continue in my capacity as
an adventurer with only this much aptitude and ability. After all, the fonts of
mana and divinity within me were small, and even I knew that I was not exactly
cut out for adventuring.
It was perhaps
worth noting that individuals with the ability to command and utilize all three
abilities were very rare. In fact, I do not recall encountering another quite
like myself. Unfortunately, with the important factor not being quantity, but
the degree of aptitude and power one has, one could also say that I was
extremely unlucky.
Most individuals
who aspire to be adventurers usually have a strong innate disposition to one of
the three abilities—about, say, half of them were that way. Someone like me,
who was neither here nor there, was very much a rare oddity. In fact, people
like me would have probably just chosen a normal, non-combative job, and would
live their entire lives out that way in relative peace. I, too, should have
done that; at least, that is what I would say in hindsight.
One thing
prevented me from doing as I should have, however: the fact that I had a great
dream.
From a young age,
I had chased it, and have continued to do so—to become a Mithril-class
adventurer. There was no way I could give up after all this time.
But as a result of
my great dream, I appeared to have ended up as a Skeleton of sorts. While
nothing much could be said about that right now, I still did not feel like I
should give up.
Regardless of my
current appearance, I was apparently not completely dead. While I had no idea
why I was still alive to begin with, I felt like I was on the luckier end of
things, given that
my body still moved.
It is said that
humans will find a way as long as they have life. They are able to achieve
great feats precisely because they live. It was with that thought in my mind
that I continued to live on.
Come to think of
it, being a Skeleton wasn’t entirely a bad thing. Although it was a huge
problem in and of itself, in addition to how I didn’t know if I was truly
alive, I could move, and thus was not entirely helpless. There was nothing
inherently wrong with thinking that I could continue to work hard from now on,
even in my current form.
Just to be sure, I
gave the abilities I had when I was “alive” some short test runs. Mana, spirit,
and divinity all seemed functional, having apparently followed me into the
afterlife. I felt like I had more than enough to go on with these advantages.
At the very least,
I could say that I had quite the leg up from a typical Skeleton monster of this
level, who definitely would not have any of said abilities. I could probably
fight with this—it was more than enough.
It was also worth
noting that while my aspirations to evolve into a Ghoul sounded alarming, I had
no intentions of eating human flesh. I was doing so just to obtain a more human
form.
Either way, I did
not recall Ghouls requiring human flesh for sustenance. If I were compelled to
do so by instinct or some other reasons, I would cross that bridge when I came
to it.
Perhaps I would do
it in secret, or at least find some way to sate my hunger; for now, that was
not worth thinking about. More importantly, it was vital to verify the extent
of my strength in combat, and to continue my task of evolving into a Ghoul.
To achieve that, I
had to defeat the denizens—more accurately, monsters—of the labyrinth I was
currently in. Justifying my actions in doing so was simple: Existential
Evolution was only triggered by monsters gaining more experience and strength
with time—at least, that was how the typical explanation on the matter went.
The best textbook
example of this would, ironically, be a Dragon. Dragons, born as juveniles and
eventually maturing over the years into an Ancient Dragon, were a good
illustration. However, Dragons were monsters with a high amount of latent
ability and power in the first place. Compared to Dragons, Skeletons simply
remained Skeletons, regardless of how much time had passed.
Undead monsters
were very much dead, after all. Even if they were to spend thousands of years
standing in place, they would simply just exist. Accounts of undead monsters
becoming stronger simply by standing in place were virtually unheard of.
I once again found
myself at a loss, but not for long. I had to gain experience; I had to fight.
It was said that
monsters absorb the life force of other monsters should they fall in combat.
This definitely held true, both for humans and monsters, with the core
difference of humans remaining human regardless of how much strength they
absorbed from fallen monsters. While there were many strong, seasoned fighters
and adventurers, they were still human on the inside.
Monsters, however,
differed from humans in this aspect—after obtaining a certain amount of
experience and absorbed strength, the typical monster evolves into a stronger
form via the phenomenon of Existential Evolution. Based on that, it would seem
like my path had already been laid out for me.
Of course, the
problem of whether or not I was really a monster to begin with still remained;
even so, I would be able to find out easily via trial by combat. I viewed it as
a prerequisite that had to be carried out before evolution.
As such, my first
task was to locate and defeat a nearby monster.
As for monsters
that even a simple Skeleton could defeat... Slimes, Goblins, and other
Skeletons came to mind. Thankfully, they could all be found within this very
labyrinth. Although I was currently in an unexplored section of the Labyrinth
of the Moon’s Reflection, I did recall seeing a number of monsters on the way
here.
There were
multiple theories as to why monsters existed in labyrinths in the first place.
All those theories, however, seemed to agree on the fact that monsters reappeared
after a set amount of time once slain. The phenomenon, colloquially referred to
as “re-popping,” would see monsters resurrect themselves at any time, within 30
minutes, to days, or sometimes years. Weak monsters in labyrinths, in
particular, were observed to reappear within approximately one hour.
While I could not
precisely determine how much time had passed since I had been eaten by the
Dragon, I was sure the time required for said monsters to reappear had long
passed. My death, after all, did not feel like a mere five- to ten-minute
affair. Though it seemed silly thinking that my biological clock would make any
sense, given that I was currently a dry pile of bones, all I had to do was wait
around should my estimate of time be off.
With that in mind,
I set off back toward the way I came in, having deemed this the fastest way to
encounter another monster. Lifting my bony feet, I began to walk, returning to
the worn path with a series of heavy steps.
Upon
actually trying to move, however, I discovered that my body was painfully heavy
—I supposed as such that I could not fight like I was able to in life. However,
the fact that I could move somehow filled my heart with relief.
Although I was
currently the weakest in the overall monster hierarchy, I was still
considerably faster and stronger than an average human. I could only hope that
it would somehow work out, but that could have simply been baseless optimism on
my part.
As for my weapons,
I found myself still equipped with my well-worn one-handed sword and armor from
my previous life, so there appeared to be no problems in the equipment
department. All other aspects of my combat potential, however, would have to be
tested in the field.
It did not take
long for me to cross paths with another monster, taking about, say, five
minutes after I had set off on my quest. My opponent, for better or worse, was
just like me, albeit without any kind of weapons or armor—another Skeleton.
◆◇◆◇◆
And so it came to
be that I stood facing my adversary in the dark passageways of Moon’s
Reflection. My opponent was a Skeleton, just like me. A pale pile of bones,
held together by the bare minimum of life force required for it to move about.
It was unable to use magic, did not possess a shred of spirit, and was hardly able
to channel divinity of any sort. It was, in all senses of the word, a normal
Skeleton.
As I readied my
sword, the opposing Skeleton stared in my direction, as if affirming my
presence.
Clack clack clack!
Its bones clashed
together, releasing a dreadful sound. If I didn’t know any better, I would
think it was laughing at me.
Skeletons—
I had fought them
many, many times in my career as an adventurer. But now, I found myself freshly
revolted by their existence, perhaps due to my newfound perspective.
Once a living
thing had become a pile of bones, it would definitely never stand again.
However, the Skeleton before me could move in spite of that, as a continued
defiance of the divine laws of life and death. The more I looked at it, the
more I felt that its existence in and of itself was a mockery of nature.
It occurred to me
that I was probably viewed the same way by other human beings. No matter how I
spun it, it seemed impossible for me to return to Maalt as I currently was.
Once again
reminded of that fact, I could not help but sigh. Although, I did not have any
organs for breathing, let alone lungs. Having become nothing but bones, I
suppose this much was obvious.
I felt a fresh
wave of shock wash over me at this revelation—the fact that I was now something
completely inhuman was driven deep into my mind. There was not much I could do
about it, though. That was just how things were now.
Although I felt
like I had already digested the facts of my newfound state as a Skeleton, it
would seem like many other things about this development still bothered me. If
anything, I felt more hesitant than ever.
Despite that, I
had no choice but to press on. I had to defeat this other Skeleton before me
and evolve into a Ghoul at all costs! With that in mind, I put my backbone into
the task, making a running start toward the opposing Skeleton—
At least, that was
what I had wanted to do. The speed at which I was advancing toward the other
Skeleton was, for lack of a better word, painfully slow. I suppose one could
define it as a sort of run; a jog, maybe. However, the speed at which I was
moving left much to be desired—it did not seem like a pace suited for combat.
At the very least,
I was faster than an average member of Maalt’s townsfolk. But I was still decidedly
slower than the common adventurer, even the lowest-ranked Iron adventurers.
It would seem that
my physical abilities had also been adversely affected by my untimely death. It
was obvious, perhaps, if one thought about it:
A Skeleton was
nothing more than a walking pile of bones. As all living things needed muscles
of some sort to move, it was a miracle that Skeletons could move at all—and a
given that they did not move particularly well.
As if to prove my
point, the opposing Skeleton’s speed was also achingly slow. Thinking back on
it, all the Skeletons I had met up to this point moved in a similar fashion. If
anything, it could be said that their sluggishness made them the perfect prey
for Bronze-class adventurers such as myself. It was possibly thanks to them
that I had continued existing as an adventurer for this long.
But even if
Skeletons were easy prey for Bronze-class adventurers, I was currently a
Skeleton, as well. It was surely not going to be an easy fight; this much I
realized the moment I raised my sword.
Although it was
obvious that my swordplay would be a lot slower than it was in life, it was not
as if I had suddenly forgotten how to swing my weapon. At the very least, I
firmly recalled the basics. It was with that knowledge that I came to a simple
conclusion: the
only quick attack
I had in my repertoire at this point in time was a simple downward swing. Just
to be sure, I decided to test my theory. The results, however, were extremely
disheartening.
For one thing, it
was difficult to lift my sword. This was most likely due to the changes in my
musculature, or lack thereof. Even so, I was greeted with more difficulties as
I tried my best to lift my weapon. The combined weight of the sword, along with
the force required to reverse the direction it had been traveling in, was
considerably straining.
If my observations
rang true, this was all due to a lack of muscles. In other words, all the
techniques and movements that I had learned up until now could not be employed
in this situation.
Once again, it
occurred to me that this was an obvious fact. After all, the techniques I had
learned were used and taught by humans. There wouldn’t have been a single
technique or attack that was designed for the physique of a Skeleton in mind.
Even so, I strived
to work out a solution. If I simply stopped here and now, I would surely be
defeated by the other Skeleton and die, again. Perhaps, then, it was quite the
stroke of luck that my first opponent was a sluggish and simple Skeleton.
As I was busy testing
out potential sword attacks, the opponent had picked up speed, and was rushing
in my direction—until it promptly slipped. As a result of its unfortunate fall,
my opponent’s right leg bone had apparently dislodged itself. The Skeleton was
now sitting on the ground in a somewhat awkward position, desperately
attempting to retrieve and reattach its detached leg.
I could not help
but laugh at the dark comedy of this scenario. At least, I wanted to laugh, but
Skeletons in general were incapable of producing such a sound. The only sounds
a Skeleton could make were rattling sounds, and that was about it. Without much
of a choice, I decided to emulate the sound that the opposing Skeleton had made
when it first set eyes on me. A miserable series of clacks was the result of my
attempt at laughter.
As if enraged by
my bony laughter, the enemy Skeleton jammed its detached bone back into its
socket, then stood up and rushing toward me once more. It seemed like it was
serious about attacking me this time.
I could not see
this as a good thing—it most definitely wasn’t. Although Skeletons were weak
monsters, it had enough speed and power to kill a grown man—minus the typical
adventurer, of course. With that being said, even the weakest Iron-class
adventurer would take severe damage from such a blow.
While I was lost
in thought, the Skeleton’s charge hit me straight on, and we had now both
fallen onto the ground. I nervously looked for a way to counterattack,
convinced that if I simply sat and did nothing, the other Skeleton would surely
kill me. But apparently,
that was not
necessary.
The reason for
that was simple: the other Skeleton simply did not attempt to attack. This was
perhaps due to a combination of factors, including the fact that the momentum
it was moving at, and the specific angle I was holding my sword, had caused my
weapon to become firmly embedded in its skull. A truly serendipitous
occurrence.
However, that much
wasn’t quite enough—the enemy was an undead monster, after all. If anything,
the enemy Skeleton seemed more irritated at the fact that its field of vision
was now blocked by a sword sticking out of one of its eye sockets. This fact,
as opposed to being bothered by the fact that the sword in question was a
sharp, metallic instrument in its skull. It was also far from being dead.
Judging by
everything I had seen thus far, it was fair to assume that Skeletons did not
possess much in the way of intellect or logic, even though they had a somewhat
humanoid form. The Skeleton that had attacked me was a good example, as it was
thoroughly confused by the current developments, and apparently could not
decide what to do.
Capitalizing on
this chance, I quickly grabbed the handle of my blade, placing what force I
could onto the weapon. I had thought to simply push the blade through, given
that it had been so conveniently impaled into the enemy’s skull.
I was, however,
reminded of the unfortunate fact that I was an almost-powerless Skeleton. After
all, bone was a material used to make armor, and it was considerably hard. The
enemy’s skull probably wouldn’t shatter with what little strength I had. Even
if I tried to put my body into the attack, it would not work, as I did not have
much of a body to begin with.
I found myself at
a complete loss.
I had to somehow
channel more power into the blade’s hilt, no matter the cost. If this went on,
I would probably be stuck mud-wrestling this Skeleton forever. It was greatly
undesirable for my first battle to drag on for hundreds of years.
Drawing my mind
back from its hopeless daydream, it occurred to me that I should at least
attempt to use one of the abilities I had acquired in life. For all intents and
purposes, I was not a normal Skeleton, and I should be exploiting that fact to
the fullest.
I had become too caught
up in the matter that I was currently a Skeleton, and had forgotten that I had
defeated many Skeletons in my previous life. In fact, I used to be able to
defeat Skeletons with nothing but brute force. I even had mana, spirit, and
divinity at my disposal.
Although normal
Skeletons were not aware of it, their movements were powered by
magic, as well. As
a result, Skeletons possessed a higher measure of speed and power than the
average person, hence its classification as a monster. Since I was no longer
human myself, it occurred to me that I should be using my newfound capabilities
as a monster as much as possible too.
Amongst the three
abilities available to me, spirit was the one that was the most suitable for an
application of brute force—and as such, the most suitable for my current
situation.
Having finally
arranged my thoughts, I began to focus, surrounding my body with spirit energy.
Amidst considerations that I had last used this ability when I was more than
just a pile of bones, I had no idea if it would actually work. But I had to
test it out somehow. If it didn’t work, then I would have to rely on simple
force. If it did, on the other hand...
I was known in
life for pushing forward even if things seemed grim. It didn’t make sense to
simply give up now.
As I continued to
focus, it would seem like my gamble was paying off—with all of my strength, I
thrust the sword’s hilt, slowly pushing the weapon through the Skeleton’s eye
socket and eventually breaking through its skull. But the force of the attack
did not seem to stop there—a series of unpleasant crackling sounds spread
through the enemy Skeleton’s body, and all at once, all the bones in its body
broke into a thousand small pieces.
Like a puppet with
its strings cut, what used to be the enemy Skeleton collapsed into a shower of
bony fragments, scattering across the ground of the labyrinth. Up until a few
moments ago, those bones had been connected, and had formed the body of a
Skeleton. But with its head crushed and form compromised, the Skeleton seemed
to have lost its undead traits, returning once more into a lifeless pile of
bones.
I won. Somehow.
Although it was a
clumsy and thoroughly shameful display of a first battle, all that mattered was
my victory.
While I was not as
agile or strong as I was in life, I had managed to use the abilities available
to me for a strained victory. Perhaps I didn’t do as badly as I thought.
With that notion
in my head, I leaned back, my mind somehow filled with an ambivalent sense of
relief.
◆◇◆◇◆
Well, then. While
it was all fine and good that I’d defeated a fellow Skeleton, would this be a
definitive step toward my evolution?
Searching amidst
the shattered bones of my opponent, I picked up what appeared to be a magic
crystal. I held it up to myself, as if expecting some sort of change to occur.
Unfortunately, however, nothing of the sort happened—at least, I assumed as
much. Suddenly, as if to prove me wrong, a stream of light slowly rose from the
Skeleton’s shattered remains, gradually heading toward my body.
Is it still alive?!
Alarmed, I quickly
took a combative stance, but the stream of light did not seem hostile in any
way. It did, however, ignore my most valiant attempts to dodge it, eventually
making its way into my body. Preparing myself for some sort of impact, I half
expected the light to hurt me in some way, it did not. Instead, I felt full of
strength.
As I slowly began
to absorb the light, I could feel the energy I had expended in the previous
fight return to me. Oddly enough, even my reserves of mana, spirit, and
divinity all seemed to increase, if only by a sliver. Was this the much-vaunted
Existential Evolution that monsters went through?
Deciding to find
out, I conducted a thorough inspection of my body—not that it took very long to
do at all. Although I definitely felt stronger, I was still visually a walking
pile of bones, not quite yet the Ghoul I was hoping to become. If anything, my
appearance did not actually change in the slightest.
While the lack of
a mirror prevented me from confirming, the visible parts of my body, such as my
arms and legs, were still pale white bone. My face probably did not fare any
better. In that case...
Then was this all for naught?!
That was the first
thought that had crossed my mind in this moment.
Thinking about it
calmly, I realized that Existential Evolution was probably not something that
happened overnight, especially not with the defeat of only one other Skeleton.
This was also knowledge that was gleaned from my readings of various tomes on
monsters—numerous books seemed to reach the same conclusion.
For instance, if
said evolution truly did occur with the simple defeat of a monster by another
of the same type, they would then instantly become stronger, more powerful
monsters. In turn, they would effectively spread like wildfire and make the
world a living hell for the rest of humanity. Although the lands were populated
with distinct types of monsters, including those that posed credible threats to
humanity, most of them were monsters that could be safely hunted and disposed
of. This was how humanity managed to live on in relative peace inside
established towns and villages.
As such, those
very same books I had been reading deduced that not many monsters
must go
through Existential Evolution on a regular basis. Simply put, the process was
not something that happened easily or quickly. One would possibly need to
defeat a great many enemies first, with some having a higher degree of
strength, or to live for a certain amount of time before it would even happen.
In my case, I had
just become a monster, and had struggled to defeat another Skeleton. Evolution
would not be knocking on my door anytime soon—such was a reasonable assumption.
If anything, I should be grateful for becoming a little stronger, especially if
the surge of strength and slight increase in my abilities were anything to go
by.
While I had
trained for days, weeks, and months without much results in life, the instant
gratification of my previous battle was much more preferable. With the defeat
of a single enemy, I grew a little stronger.
Relatively
speaking, I would find battles easier the more of them I fought—a reasonable
deduction, I thought. Of course, there was no guarantee that my battles would
result in victory each and every time. I did also get rather lucky for my first
fight.
Well, I suppose it
would ultimately come down to me trying my hand at defeating various other
monsters in the area. I had to at least try.
With that thought
in mind, I set off on the passageways of the Labyrinth of the Moon’s Reflection
once more.
◆◇◆◇◆
As expected, my
hypothesis was correct—I grew a little stronger with each defeated foe.
After that initial
battle, I encountered and swiftly defeated a number of other Skeletons.
Each time, that
strange light would rise from their body, making its way inside me.
With each absorbed
light, I felt stronger and faster. It was not just a mental illusion of sorts;
my movements had become markedly faster and stronger. Even my spirit art
attacks had their offensive power increased. While I had struggled to push my
blade through the enemy’s skull during my first encounter, I could now send my
opponent’s bones flying if I put my backbone into it, crushing them in the
process.
Perhaps the time
had come for me to move on to bigger prey, like Slimes. I had certainly become
strong enough to at least entertain such thoughts.
Although Slimes
were somewhat weak, just like basic Skeleton monsters were, qualities to not be
underestimated were their indeterminate shapes and jelly-like bodies. Due to
these traits, physical attacks did not work too well on them, so the easiest
way to defeat Slimes was to attack them with spells of some sort.
With that being
said, however, it was inaccurate to say that Slimes were invulnerable to
everything but
magic; it was still very much possible to defeat them with physical attacks.
There were two
ways to go about doing this: one could crush the Slime’s core, which was a
crystalline organ in the interior of the Slime. If that object were destroyed,
the Slime would simply dissolve and die, leaving only magic crystals in its
wake. But that was much easier said than done. A Slime’s core was not
stationary, as it often moved around inside its fluid-like body. Certain
degrees of technique and finesse were required to damage it with a sword or
spear. Such skills were commonly found in adventurers past the
middle-Bronze-class level. On that note, I was a lower-Bronze-class adventurer,
so I obviously could do nothing of the sort.
The other method
was somewhat messy, as one could simply scatter the gelatinous parts of the
jelly around with blunt force impacts, eventually reaching the core before the
Slime could regenerate, thus destroying it. As this was an extremely simple
method, even I was capable of executing it. It did, however, require a certain
amount of execution time.
The gelatinous
nature of a Slime meant that it could reform even if scattered, starting with
the largest piece. In order to prevent that from happening, either a relatively
forceful blow, or a series of rapid blows, had to be applied. In my case, I
chose for a single, powerful spirit art reinforced attack. It was all I had.
Basically, I was
only able to hunt one Slime a day in my previous life. I was incredibly weak—
Well, I was a lower-Bronze-class adventurer,
after all. To make matters worse, I often traveled alone, as opposed to joining
a party with others.
Slimes were simple
monsters that could be easily dispatched even if the sole member of the party
had some small degree of magical aptitude. One did not need to be a great mage
to take out Slimes, as a single fireball or earthen arrow would do the trick.
If anything, few adventurers chose to utilize the time-consuming, inefficient
method I was now forced to use.
In exchange, I was
able to hunt lower-tier monsters, such as Skeletons or Goblins, in relatively
large numbers. This resulted in respectable earnings for a lower-Bronze-class
adventurer such as myself. Though in my current form, I might even give my archnemesis,
the Slime, a run for its proverbial money.
Having at last
gotten used to my skeletal body, I was able to deliver blows of considerable
force, even without utilizing spirit arts. Surely that would be enough to
scatter the gelatinous body of a Slime.
It was time to
give my new skills a spin. I set off for an area in Moon’s Reflection that was
well-known to be inhabited by my archenemy. Although I had already defeated one
on my way into the uncharted territories of the labyrinth, significant time had
passed for
a re-pop to
occur, according to my assumptions. Of course, it was quite possible that
another adventurer could have gotten to the Slime before I did.
After exploring
labyrinths for such extensive amounts of time, one eventually develops a biological
sense of time within its walls, which is handy for keeping track of time when
surveying. In highly-populated labyrinths, the smell of blood and metal would
often fill the air, in addition to vibrations caused by combat that could be
felt in the floor and walls. In my case, I had spent most of my time exploring
this particular labyrinth, and as such, I had a relatively good grasp of its
scope of time. Thanks to that, I could even determine which areas of the
labyrinth would experience high adventurer traffic during specific times of the
day.
As such, I
determined that there were no adventurers known to frequent this labyrinth
around this period of time. This wasn’t the only labyrinth around the town of
Maalt, after all. There was another, bigger one close by, apparently called the
Labyrinth of the New Moon.
Many parts of that
labyrinth remained unexplored, with multiple areas and floors only partially
mapped out. As a result, most adventurers in Maalt headed toward New Moon.
Those who had instead opted to frequent Moon’s Reflection were either stubborn
or solo adventurers who could not find a party to explore the depths of New
Moon.
For the record, I
was of the latter group. Although I had originally wanted to explore the
Labyrinth of the New Moon instead, it was populated by a vast number of
monsters, including those that attacked adventurers in packs. A
lower-Bronze-class adventurer wandering into that labyrinth alone would be no
better than a death sentence. Barring the times when I had been invited at the
last minute to fill a slot in someone else’s party, I greatly preferred hunting
in the Labyrinth of the Moon’s Reflection instead.
Thinking back on
it, it was a relatively lonely life.
There were many
reasons as to why I adventured alone, but the main reason was simple: no other
adventurers wanted to be in a party with me. After all, I had been stuck as a
lower-Bronze-class for roughly ten years. Even the most untalented adventurers
would rise to middle- or upper-Bronze-class level in that lengthy span of time.
—That was
evidently not the case for me.
Even so, I was not
completely isolated; I was occasionally invited to join other parties. However,
as I wanted to become a Mithril-class adventurer of my own ability, the nature
of my dream prevented me from joining the parties of other adventurers quite
often. In addition, my long stagnation in the adventurer ranks had apparently
earned me the name of “The Thousand-year Bronze-class,” and as a result, even
the occasional party invitations had eventually dried up.
It was a sad tale,
so let us leave that be for now. More importantly, I still had to hunt myself a
Slime.
Shelving those
thoughts, I continued moving forward, and was soon greeted by the sight of a
slowly-moving, almost transparent monster of jelly.
—It was
unmistakably a Slime.
Drawing my sword,
I slowly crept up upon my archnemesis, the very same kind of Slime that I had
hunted these past ten years.
◆◇◆◇◆
It did not take
long for me to notice that this Slime was slightly different from its peers.
Its body was clear and transparent—it was obvious that it had reappeared not
too long ago.
A clean Slime like
this was considerably rare. It’s perhaps worth mentioning that Slimes’ hues
often became clouded after living for a while, mainly due to eating other
monsters, or the occasional unfortunate small animal. Trapped in the Slime’s
gelatinous body, its prey would slowly start to dissolve, resulting in quite
the unpleasant sight. Slimes also sucked up corpses and other dead bodies quite
frequently, and it was not uncommon to see bones and half-digested remains of
monsters suspended in a Slime’s body. New adventurers not yet used to the sight
of viscera often found themselves throwing up.
While the sight of
dead mice and the like were somewhat tolerable, Slimes sometimes absorbed the
remains of humanoid monsters such as Goblins, or in some cases, even the
half-digested corpses of adventurers who had died exploring the labyrinth. Most
adventurers would lose their appetite for exploration after such a sight, if
not their stomach altogether. Of course, those who continued being so easily
disgusted did not remain adventurers for long. Though even those that did press
on down the adventurer’s path still continued to find half-digested dead bodies
disgusting.
In my case, I felt
very little, having continued on as an adventurer for some ten odd years.
Common wisdom stated that adventurers needed to steel their guts during their
first year.
Drawing my mind
back from yet another train of thought, I once again became aware of the
relative clarity of the Slime before me. Although I was currently a Skeleton,
and could be more frightening to the common man in certain situations (more so
than a Slime in the middle of digesting its meal, at least), my emotions were
still very much human.
I did not want
anyone to think I derived any sort of pleasure from destroying a corpse-filled
Slime. But this particular Slime was clean, and very much so. The fluid of a
freshly
spawned Slime like
this was worth a tidy sum. If one were to somehow collect its fluids with a
vessel of sorts, it could be sold to the adventurer’s guild or to an alchemist
as an important, rare ingredient. Even the fluids of an impure Slime could be
boiled and mixed with various medicinal ingredients to create basic healing
potions, so it was not a bad ingredient by any means. The fluids of a pure and
clean Slime, however, had many more uses, and as such could be sold for much
larger sums.
Although I was a
Skeleton now, the tool belt I had in life was still attached to my waist. In
said tool belt was a container I had specifically prepared for this situation,
and I quickly decided that this was the course of action I would take after
defeating the Slime.
Slowly, and with
considerably suspicious movements, I began to approach the Slime. As I did so,
the Slime, as if noticing me, shivered intensely, shooting out what appeared to
be a glob of water in my general direction.
Anticipating its
attack, I dodged cleanly to the side. The glob of water I dodged promptly hit
the ground, instantly beginning to dissolve the earth. It did not take long for
a small trail of smoke to rise from the unfortunate patch of dirt.
This was one of
the Slime’s signature attacks—Acid Blitz. As its name may suggest, the Slime
produces an acidic substance within its body, and shoots it out as a form of
ranged projectile attack. Whatever was unfortunate enough to be hit by said
attack would then dissolve.
It was a simple,
acid-based attack, and depending on where the victim was hit, it would not deal
too much damage. However, if it caught one in, say, the eyes, the unfortunate
victim would not escape unscathed. At the very least, one should endeavor to
protect one’s face in such an encounter.
Although I would
not lose my vision from a simple acid attack to the face in my current form,
the bone structure of my skull would most likely dissolve, in which case I
would simply die. So losing one’s eyesight was hardly the problem here. It
occurred to me that I had to avoid every single one of the Slime’s attacks,
just to be safe.
It’s worth noting
that while the Slime’s attack was considerably dangerous, the Slime itself was
markedly slow. A normal Slime like this one was not known for moving fast. In
addition, its movements were easily predictable; all I had to do was be
sufficiently careful. As long as one was alert for the ever-present threat of
the fast-moving Acid Blitz projectile, Slimes were not fearsome monsters by any
means.
If anything, the
main problem adventurers faced when attempting to defeat a Slime was that of
their own skill sets and abilities.
Due to my current
state as a Skeleton and the absorbed energies of the other Skeletons I had
defeated, I was stronger than I had ever been. At the very least, I was now capable
of
movements close to
my original speed in life. I would probably not lose to a Slime, of all things.
As I gradually
continued to advance, the Slime motioned to shoot yet another round of acid in
my general direction. This time, however, I was prepared, holding up my sword
and boosting my speed with my spirit arts. Sprinting toward the Slime, I swung
down my sword in a flash, hitting its body and retreating rapidly before it
could finish shooting its acid.
Although I felt
something give as I landed my blow, there was no way I had instantly defeated
the Slime. With that thought in mind, I quickly recovered, once again readying
myself for another blow.
But this time, the
Slime did something unexpected. Instead of following up with an attack, it simply
stopped, quivering in place. All of a sudden, it completely stopped moving,
before promptly dissolving into a lifeless puddle.
This was a
commonly observed phenomenon when Slimes embraced death—with the life force
supporting their gelatinous body gone, they returned to a liquid-like state,
spreading out limply upon the labyrinth’s floor. Simply put, the Slime I had
hit with my weapon was very much dead.
I could not help
but be shocked at this sudden turn of events. It was beyond comprehension;
after all, I had never been able to defeat a Slime in just one blow when I
still drew breath as a lower-Bronze-class adventurer. Even so, the truth before
my eyes was undeniable.
Due to the nature
of my desperate attack, I had not been able to confirm it, but perhaps my
weapon had hit the Slime’s core by a stroke of luck. I would then be able to
fully justify what had just happened.
If anything, I
should be fully prepared to not be so lucky when encountering my second Slime.
Caution, in this case, was a great virtue.
More importantly,
there was the matter of the Slime’s jelly—the alchemical ingredient I wanted to
harvest. If a Slime’s fluids were to touch the ground, it would no longer be
usable as a clean ingredient, so one would have to be prepared with a container
on hand at the opportune time.
Of course, if one
were to attempt to do this to a living Slime, the container would simply bounce
off its membrane. Fortunately, this membrane was dissolved upon the Slime’s
death, and it felt very much like stabbing one’s arms into a bucket of jelly.
Retrieving a
container flask from my tool belt, I stuck its nozzle into the body of the
dying Slime, fully filling it. Although Slimes shot out strong acidic fluids in
life, such as
with Acid
Blitz, it was strangely not very acidic at all in death. In fact, adventurers
who had a habit of sticking their hands in dead Slimes found that their hands
often ended up clean and rejuvenated. On that note, I would mention that the
bodily fluids of a Slime were often used in women’s cosmetics. In fact, clean
Slime fluid was often used for this very purpose, as it apparently had some
medicinal properties due to its unique composition.
While such a rare
ingredient could be easily used to create higher tiers of healing potions, most
of it ended up being used for cosmetics. It occurred to me that the feminine
pursuit of beauty was a seemingly infinite venture.
Was it so truly
necessary to create cosmetics from monster parts...?
Well, I suppose
there was some justification for that—it is said that monster-based ingredients
have significant effects on humans. The impacts supposedly range from
immortality, to reviving the dead, or even turning an old man young again...
Perhaps this was a natural progression in the grand scheme of things.
Ending my internal
monologue, I turned to look at the container, which had now been filled up by
the rapidly deflating corpse of the Slime. Filling it up to the brim, I slid it
out slowly from the Slime’s dying goop, taking care not to spill any of the precious
fluid.
Good. This will surely sell for a fair amount
of gold.
A fair sum, indeed—perhaps
even worth quite a few days of work.
As I had
mentioned, clear Slimes were worth their weight in gold—almost literally. To
even meet such a Slime, one would have to wait about an hour for it to appear
once more, in addition to not contaminating the Slime in combat with fire or
earthen spells. In fact, there was no easy way to gather uncontaminated fluid
with magic, so that was why the Slime had to be defeated with brute force.
For these reasons,
it has been said to be an ingredient that was only gathered by adventurers who
had suitable expanses of both stamina and strength. In fact, adventurers who
could defeat Slimes in a single blow could hope for even greater rewards. For
someone like me, however, it would probably take up to half a day to
accomplish.
That being said, I
had no means to sell this ingredient, let alone use the funds to pay for any
sort of inn or accommodation. From that angle, my endeavors seemed somewhat
useless.
Leaving those
thoughts aside, I once again set my mind to evolution—I had to become a Ghoul
at any cost.
If I could evolve,
I would be able to walk into town, and even sell the rare ingredient I
As for accommodations...
Well, while I wasn’t sure about the opinions of prospective landlords, rental
properties shouldn’t be all that difficult to find.
I also needed to
speak with someone about the situation at hand; someone who would not simply
run away upon learning that I had become a monster of sorts. With regards to
that, however, I had just the person in mind.
As my thoughts
carried on about that person and how I met them, I decided to move on from my
current spot and search for my next target.
◆◇◆◇◆
It was after
defeating the fifth Slime on that day that I began to become aware of the
changes in my body. Although I had sought out and fought many other monsters
since then, it would seem like my initial encounter with, and subsequent defeat
of, the Slime was not a fluke after all. All the Slimes I had encountered after
the first perished in much the same way.
My strength was
quickly exceeding the point it had been at when I still lived.
When I was a
lower-Bronze-class adventurer, I did not feel any sense of progress no matter
how much training I did. In fact, I did not seem to progress in any way at all.
But now here I was, becoming stronger in death. I was not quite sure if I
should feel happy or sad in regards to this development, although it was
greatly preferable to just endlessly stagnating.
Although I did not
know where I would plateau at once more should I continue growing at this pace,
I set such thoughts out of my mind. Instead, I decided to do what I could at
this point in time—I continued to fight.
After fighting and
defeating ten more monsters, I felt a strange feeling well up from deep inside
me—an almost foreign feeling that I had not felt up until this point. It was by
no means an unpleasant feeling. If anything, it felt more like something was springing
up from deep within me.
However, being as
cautious as I ever was, I tried my best to endure and resist it.
Ultimately, my
efforts were proven futile.
A slow, crackling
sound filled my entire body, with the sound progressively getting louder as my
body was engulfed in a warm stream of light.
What’s happening...?
That was
the only thought my mind processed before another inexplicable thing happened
before my eyes—dried-up, shriveled flesh began appearing around the white bones
of my body. As if to hide the harsh white of my bones, the flesh continued to
creep, before surrounding my bones altogether.
This was very much
it—I could feel it. My wishes had been granted—
This was
Existential Evolution.
This was what was
happening at this point in time.
I continued my
internal monologue as the phenomenon continued, slowly spreading to the rest of
my body. Brown flesh, dry to the point where I began to doubt if moisture even
existed in its veins, started growing and wrapping itself around my arms, legs,
and everything else it could find.
Although I had
been a pile of bones up until now, I had finally been blessed with flesh...!
After a short
while, the phenomenon stopped. Just to be sure, I decided to inspect my
newfound lack of bony surfaces.
As expected, flesh
was firmly attached to my limbs—limbs that had been stark white sticks of bone
up until now.
However, the flesh
in question was a far cry from what I used to look like when I was human. To
begin with, it looked like extremely dry, thin sheets of brown stretched over
what used to be white bone. In addition, my newfound flesh did not do a very
thorough job of hiding my bones at all—bits and pieces of white showed through
the canopy of brown.
I felt like a pile
of bones that had meat haphazardly stuck onto them. If I were to surface from
the labyrinth in this form, wolves, dogs, and the like would surely find me to
be a delicious snack. Maybe I would
be eaten.
While my body was
this way, my lack of a mirror, once again, caused me to assume that my face was
identical. I was familiar with a monster that looked like this, however. Bits
of dried meat clinging to bone—none other than a Ghoul.
I was now
unmistakably a Ghoul, the initial target of my evolutionary goals.
If memory served,
Ghouls looked like humans with their skin removed: with some torn flesh still
attached to the bone, with bits of the latter showing through their muscles.
They also looked very...dry.
In other
words, I was absolutely disgusting—but of course, there was no way a dried
corpse would look appealing. I was an undead monster. It was also obvious that
no one would fancy such a form, much less aspire to somehow become similar to
it. However, to me this was a huge step forward, if only because there was now
flesh on my bones.
Having experienced
Existential Evolution, I was now aware of the fact that I could continue
climbing up the proverbial monster hierarchy if I continued working hard. That
was a fact worth celebrating.
Undead monsters,
in particular, looked more and more human the higher they climbed up the
ladder. For example, if I were to become a Vampire, which was an even higher
existence than Ghouls, I would basically become indistinguishable from a human—in
which case I would be able to move around the streets of Maalt without any
problems.
In my current
form, the best I could probably manage was sneak into town—I would still be
unable to walk about freely. However, I was familiar with the gate guards of
Maalt. If I played my cards well, I may be able to enter and exit as I pleased.
But of course.
Although it was mostly dry meat, I did currently have a body, and as such there
was one important thing I wanted to try.
“...VAAAH...
VAAAAH...”
I valiantly tried
to channel air through my throat to see if I could speak. It would seem that
generating some kind of sound, at least, was possible.
“HE... HEEH...
VVO... HEH... VO. OOD... MOV... NINV... GGGUH... HEH... VVO...”
No. This really
wouldn’t do.
Although I found
myself able to speak, I was by no means fluent—or very coherent, for that
matter. I suppose some practice was in order.
On the other hand,
I did greatly prefer this state compared to that of a Skeleton who could not
speak and could only make clattering sounds. With this, I would be able to
reach a mutual understanding with any human being who entered the labyrinth...
Or so I hoped.
Of course, the
prerequisite being that the person I was speaking to did not remain actively
terrified of me.
As I continued to
ponder various possibilities, a sharp sound of clashing metal interrupted my
thoughts. It sounded like someone was engaged in combat with monsters a
considerable amount of distance away, as it was clearly the sound made by a
sword impacting a hard surface.
Like most of the
monsters I had defeated thus far, this floor did not feature anything but weak
monsters, much less any that would generate a metallic sound. From this fact
alone, one could infer that the irregular sound came from an adventurer—there
was no other possibility.
This sound... A
living human being was here! My heart skipped a beat at this thought.
Thus far, I had
only lived for a little more than a day in this labyrinth. Most of that,
however, was spent fighting monsters alone throughout the night. It made sense
if one thought about it.
Up until now, I
had always entered labyrinths during the day, returning to Maalt in the
evenings for food. Before I knew it, however, I had become a Skeleton, and was
unable to see any specks of hope in my future. As such, I had continued slaying
monsters inside the labyrinth—perhaps it was only natural that I would miss the
presence of other humans.
I wanted to speak
with someone, anyone. If an adventurer was present, then so be it.
I did, however,
quickly recover from my excitement. Due to my appearance, attempting to speak
with a human would be a somewhat harsh undertaking.
Although I was no
longer a walking pile of bones, a Ghoul was still...a Ghoul. If I were to
approach an adventurer with this dried-out corpse body of mine, they would
clearly be alarmed, promptly readying their swords for combat; a conversation
would be the last thing on their mind.
Although
the result of the encounter might be a little different if I were some sort of
sentient, intelligent monster species, I was currently a Ghoul. My prospects
were dim in that regard. As such, I chose to distance myself from the source of
the sound and hide, so as not to come into contact with the adventurer in
question.
However, curiosity
got the best of me—would I really be able to ignore and move away from a human
being when they were so close to me?
Such was the
degree of my isolation and loneliness—I wanted to see a person, no matter what.
And so I made my
choice, creeping up to the source of the sound silently. If I were discovered,
I would simply escape.
I thought peeking
from the shadows would likely be acceptable. I would then hide my presence as
best as possible, moving forward as quietly as I could.
As the sounds grew
louder, my heartbeat followed in tandem. A little bit more...
I wasn’t too far
now from another human being. Slowly but surely, I arrived at my destination,
with the sounds of combat continuing from behind a corner.
Remaining cautious
as I crept up the path, I carefully peeked over the corner, staring beyond into
the corridors of the labyrinth. There, as I had expected, was another
adventurer, sword drawn and engaged in combat with monsters.
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