First Expedition (3)

“Eek! Is that a boss monster?”

There was a powerful monster above us. The kind that could casually slaughter spiders the size of Chihuahuas.

Every gate had a single boss monster. So if spiders had taken over this building, there had to be a spider boss somewhere in it.

“Should I go myself?”

After a moment’s thought, I decided to try Possession on one of the skeletons I’d just made. My vision doubled, and the rest of my senses synced a beat later. Dim black-and-white sight, muffled sound. Once I got used to it, the skeleton moved exactly as I willed.

“Aaah. I can hear myself just fine.”

It was a little uncomfortable, but my own voice came through clearly. No idea how I was seeing and hearing without eyes or ears, but whatever.

I steered the skeleton up the stairs, and—

A spider bigger than a large dog filled my view. A brown spider with a body about two meters long.

At the sound of bone striking floor, the spider’s head snapped up—then scritch-scritch, CRASH!

In a blink it charged on a storm of legs and smashed the skeleton to pieces.

“Ugh.”

The link cut, and a light wave of dizziness washed over me. Not an easy opponent after all.

“Should we take it? Mari, what do you think?”

That spider. If we could just kill the big one, we probably wouldn’t have to worry about fighting for a while.

Mari seemed to ponder for a moment, then nodded.

“You want to hunt it? Isn’t that dangerous?”

I had Blessing of the Reaper, so I’d be fine. The problem was the undead. They could be raised again, but injuries didn’t heal. If a skeleton’s bones snapped? Even if it got reassembled and stood back up, you could hardly call it fine. Even Ttacttac-i was cracked all over right now. And that spider that had gone up first and gotten wrecked was still alive—just crumpled, rolling around like a ball.

“…We’re doing it anyway.”

Spiders were still just monsters. They weren’t going to beat humans. More than that, we needed combat power. If even one A-rank gate opened nearby, we’d be wiped out. Even if it cost us, I had to turn that big spider into an undead.

“Let’s put a strategy together. First, the skeletons…”

After about ten minutes of planning, the moment we were ready, the battle began.

“Everyone good?”

Kreeek, clack-clack! Grrroooh…

Yeah, no problems there.

I sent several spiders up ahead of us, and the second the upper floor came into view I kept a little distance and gave the order.

“Skeletons—charge!”

The skeletons surged ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠forward in the assault formation I’d drilled into them beforehand. I left the finer movements to Ttacttac-i’s command. Undead could communicate among themselves, so a fair amount of precise coordination was possible.

BOOM, CRASH!

The spider charged exactly as before—but the broken skeleton army became a barricade and stopped the rush cold!

—Clack, clack-clack!

On commander Ttacttac-i’s orders, the remaining skeletons seized its legs!

Kik, kiii?

The spider tried to charge again in panic, but it couldn’t punch through that many skeletons.

And ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in the opening that bought us—

the spiders made their move.

“All units, volley fire!”

Psshh! Sticky webs sprayed from the spiders clinging to the walls and ceiling, and the big spider was smothered before it could do a thing.

In that same instant, Mari shot forward and drove her blade home!

“Heehee, how’s that?! A hunter-grade magic steel blade!”

Not the kitchen ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠knife from before—the hunter’s knife I’d brought. It slammed deep into the joint of the big spider’s neck, and—

Kiii…

The big spider went limp and accepted death.

“Oooh…”

I was moved. Truly moved. So this was what being a necromancer meant? After all that worrying, the hunt had been almost embarrassingly easy.

Still only one option—but this time without the “Lesser,” a full rank up. So around B-rank, then? The little spiders had been about C-rank.

“All right. Cut it free.”

Once the undead conversion finished and the skeletons chewed through the webs with their teeth, the big spider heaved its body in what looked a lot like gratitude.

Huh. Spiders got weirdly thankful when they came back to life. Not sure why, but it didn’t seem like we’d have anything more to worry about. This one was probably the mother of the little ones, right?

I looked it over a bit, then climbed on top. With eight whole legs, the stability was outstanding. Perfect—we’d even acquired a mount.

Kreeek-kreek.

It made a cute little noise, like it was happy too.

“All right. You’re yellowish, so you’re Hwanggu.”

Kreeek! Hwanggu seemed to like the name, chirping in a pleased way. Maybe because of its size, it seemed a little smarter than the other spiders.

“Come on, come on—let’s clear the rest and go home!”

Riding the spider, I stepped onto the next floor—the top floor—and—

Stick.

“…Huh.”

I’d stepped on a web by accident. Not like the ones before—this was an ordinary spider’s web, the kind real spiders spun. A few more steps and I’d have been caught with no way out.

A chill ran through me. Why hadn’t the earlier spiders made traps like this? The little ones, sure—but a fully grown Hwanggu should have known how. Unless even this big dog was still a juvenile that hadn’t learned to weave yet.

And if Hwanggu wasn’t the boss monster… then what was waiting above?

“We’re going down, everyone!”

I sent a few bait skeletons upstairs and bolted down the stairs.

Crack.

Thud… thud… thud…

The sound of skeletons shattering. Something crushing the floor as it came.

A-rank? No—if it’s smart enough to set traps, it could be low S-rank.

From the S-rank to B-rank gates that had opened in Seoul, the monsters that had come out hadn’t merely survived. They were living things—they grew, learned, and bred. And if Hwanggu and all those other spiders were this thing’s offspring—

“Jump out the windows if you have to! You’ll live longer that way!”

Everyone scattered, throwing open hallway windows to leap out or hurling themselves into the open space between stair flights. The big dog I was riding scrambled down on its eight legs, but maybe we were a little too slow.

At that bone-chilling thud-thud, I turned without thinking—and—

“KYAAAAAAAAAAAA—!”

A spider with the upper body of a human woman, shrieking a grotesque scream, came charging down, filling the entire stairwell.

“Mari!”

Mari, barely managing to follow me, swung her blade at the human half—but it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wasn’t enough. Webs shot from the woman’s hands and pinned the knife to the wall.

I can’t fight this.

I didn’t think I’d die—I had Blessing of the Reaper. But could the blessing finish it in one go? If not, every last one of my undead would be ruined!

As the giant spider closed in on me like something in slow motion, a miracle happened.

“Commencing mission.”

A sound like crackling static, or sparks popping. A prickling heat rode the air.

“Flame One-Slash.”

Whsssh—KRAAAAAAANG!

A colossal red blade of pure force came screaming down from the floor above and melted the Arachne away!

“Mission complete. S-rank disaster Arachne eliminated.”

And so, while I was still standing there blankly, not even understanding what had happened, a man came down speaking into a radio.

A boy in a bulletproof vest, with nothing but rags underneath. He surveyed the area with a flat, empty expression—then his eyes met mine.

W-wait. He wouldn’t try to kill me too, would he…?

But my worry was wasted. He simply spoke into the radio again, as if I weren’t even there.

“Undead cluster confirmed. Large numbers of skeletons and spiders. One mummy, one zombie.”

Then, as if he’d never seen me at all, he walked back upstairs and vanished.

“Ah—wait, I should have said something!”

I scrambled after him, but the boy was already gone. The whole point of this expedition was to talk to other people and gather information, and I’d let the chance slip away for nothing!

“But… a zombie?”

I hadn’t made any zombies. The only thing around here that could even remotely pass for one was…

“Me?”

Which meant—

“He called me a zombie?!”

That was ridiculous! I was human. You could only stretch a mistake so far—how could he possibly—

Then, suddenly, I remembered the message I’d seen when I awakened.

“No way.”

Was I closer to undead than human now—and that was why he’d mistaken me for one? No, that was too much! No matter how you looked at it, I was a warm, living human… right…?

“…Huh? I’m cold?”

I pressed my cheek again, half in denial, but all I felt was a chill. Startled, I checked my pulse—and my heart was beating with shocking slowness.

“I really turn undead-like? Even in stuff like this?”

My skin still looked like a clear-skinned young girl’s, but there was no body heat, and my hair was a mess from the escape. On top of that, I’d sewn my ill-fitting clothes so clumsily they might as well have been rags. Honestly, if I ran into myself outside, I’d probably just think, pretty zombie.

“…Unbelievable. This is so annoying.”

I was grateful he’d helped. Grateful, sure. But somehow my goodwill toward humanity itself had just taken a hit. Maybe I didn’t even count as human anymore.

If undead were beings weighted more toward death than life, was I something like fifty-one percent life and forty-nine percent death? Then I could understand him not recognizing me. Still… the hurt feelings were real.

Sigh.

“Wait—if he reported that there were undead here…”

Other people might come and attack us.

I hurriedly ordered the intact ones to gather up the broken undead and was about to leave when—

“Ah—right, I should make this first.”

Before heading down, I scrambled over to stand in front of the dead giant spider.

Hmm. Zombies would probably smell, so Death-weaver it was.

The moment I chose, the Arachne’s corpse—not just cut in half, but with its entire middle blown open—pulled itself together and became a pure-white spider, a little smaller than before. The size drop was unavoidable. The melted portion had been too big; even a Mythic-rank skill couldn’t fix that. If I could fully restore and raise something like that, I’d be a saint, not a necromancer.

Kyaaarak! The Death-weaver bounced up and down looking at me. The woman half was completely gone, but it was a bit larger than Hwanggu—plenty reassuring.

“Ah—right, we need to run!”

And with that, the first expedition came to an end.

Crunch. When he released the sword, the skin of his palm peeled away. He’d drawn too much heat; the flesh had melted and fused to the scorching hilt. The pain had to be severe, yet the boy finished sheathing the blade as if he were used to it.

Killing it in one blow might have been too much risk.

It wasn’t a monster of raw physical power, but as a named monster rated S-rank, he’d overdone it a little. With a touch of self-reproach, the boy opened a door and went inside.

Seated within was the minister of the Special Safety Department.

“You’re late. And if you reported undead, why didn’t you deal with them?”

“My ability overheated. Further use would have been difficult.”

“Tsk. With willpower this lacking…”

“…….”

Lee Eojin gave a short bow and stepped out. Once a promising young hunter, and after the fall the boy who had awakened the Legendary-class sword path job of Flame Emperor, he let out a sigh.

Under normal circumstances, he should have cleaned up that undead pack before coming back. He could have managed it if he’d pushed a little. He hadn’t. He’d probably face disciplinary action. With the committee holed up in a crumbling National Assembly building, their sanctions meant nothing—but a damaged reputation was still a problem.

But… undead were people once, too.

He was soft-hearted. Soft enough to feel guilt just because he’d met a zombie girl’s eyes. Ordinarily, he would have quit expanding the safe zones ages ago, but—

“I can’t do that.”

He wouldn’t stop. He was a hunter of a ruined world, an agent of the Special Safety Department, and it was his duty to eliminate monsters.

“But…”

How long did he have to keep doing this?

As Lee Eojin murmured the words, his eyes slowly sank into a quiet gloom.