A Two-Stage Evolution? What is this, Pokémon?

"Dogs of the Abyss! Struggle all you want! I, Valmonk, shall slaughter every last one of you!" Each and every punch boasted a truly devastating, tyrannical destructive power.

As if proving the rampant rumors true, the Hero was a powerhouse who could not be overcome by sheer numbers alone. Only then did Charlotte realize her mistake, while simultaneously understanding that this was far beyond her current capabilities.

What about the Boss? Before she could even finish the thought, she caught herself. This battle to repel the Hero was her qualification test as his deputy. Shifting the responsibility and relying on the Boss was, in itself, a disqualification.

Groan... Even the Minotaur and the Basilisk, which had seemed like iron fortresses, collapsed. This struck terror into the hearts of the other monsters, and their plummeting morale spread like a contagious plague. Incapacity to fight and loss of the will to battle were shortcuts to defeat. She had already played all her cards. She couldn't see any way to defeat the Hero.

"Ha! Right! I almost forgot about you." With those words, the Hero leaped toward the other side. Standing there, completely indifferent, was the Dungeon Lord—the Death Knight.

In an instant, dismay washed over Charlotte's face. The dungeon was the Lord, and the Lord was the dungeon. The responsibility of a lost battle could be redeemed someday. But allowing the enemy to reach the Lord was an irreversible catastrophe.

I am... incompetent. This is what happens when subordinates lack capability. It was the moment Charlotte squeezed her eyes shut in sheer helplessness.

When she blinked and opened her eyes again, Valmonk was gone. In the spot where he had stood, only bloodstains and chunks of flesh lay scattered. Aside from that, any presence of a person, any aura of life, had vanished as if it were all a lie.

A sudden silence descended. The Death Knight looked down at his blood-splattered black iron armor with cold, unfeeling eyes. "Even in death, he splatters filth." That was his only comment. Turning his back on the bloodstains at his feet, the Death Knight walked away.

Only after Charlotte's frozen mind restarted did she fully comprehend the situation. The Hero, Valmonk, had died at the hands of the Lord. Quite literally, in the blink of an eye. Actually, saying he died "at the hands" of the Lord was a misnomer. In truth, the Lord had made him explode without lifting a single finger.

How on earth...? He had killed the Hero without a single word or action. A Hero who had slaughtered dozens of monsters. Even though she had just witnessed it, she couldn't believe it. Yet, despite killing such a Hero in an instant, the Death Knight's reaction was utterly indifferent. An elephant stepping on an ant couldn't have been more anticlimactic.

Naturally, every eye turned toward the Lord. An overwhelming pressure weighed down on the air, heavy enough to make one feel as though they needed permission just to breathe.

"Ha..." Beginning with someone's sharp intake of breath, everyone present finally exhaled the breath they had been holding. "My... the Abyss is going to be in an uproar for quite some time," the Demon Merchant said, his face completely blank with shock.

For a Hero, the Empire's greatest asset, to die so anticlimactically was unprecedented in imperial history. A feat that even the lords of the 7 Abyssal Palaces had failed to achieve in a thousand years had been accomplished by the lord of a newly born 7 Abyssal Palace. And would it stop at the Abyss? It would surely become the talk of the town between the Empire and the 72 Dungeons.

Just how strong is he? If the other lords of the 7 Abyssal Palaces had witnessed this, they would have been utterly dumbfounded. Yet the Death Knight, the very protagonist of this event, had already left the scene without any particular emotion. Looking at his retreating back, everyone felt something far beyond mere wonder—they felt absolute awe.

...To him, the Hero was less than a fly. The only reaction he had shown was annoyance at the splattered blood. It was the exact reaction one would have after crushing a bug.

The Demon Merchant was a well-known gossip even within his chamber of commerce. Since he had witnessed it firsthand, it was only a matter of time before the achievements of the new lord of the 7 Abyssal Palaces spread like wildfire. It would undoubtedly pique the interest of the other lords of the 7 Abyssal Palaces, who lived their lives steeped in boredom.

What is this? It was then that a familiar scent brushed the tip of his nose. The Demon Merchant was an Incubus half-breed. He could detect human lust through his sense of smell. The demon's venomous gaze locked onto Charlotte. How dare a mere human half-breed... The sight of her harboring lust, utterly oblivious to her own station, was incredibly loathsome.

In an instant, Charlotte shook her head several times. With that, her lust flickered and died out like a candle in the wind. At least she knows her place. Do not overstep. He is not someone a wench like you can dare to desire.

Yes. If it were that lady... Unless it were another lord of the 7 Abyssal Palaces. He recalled her complaining recently about how terribly lonely she had been. It was too early now, but he resolved to arrange an introduction if the opportunity arose in the future.

Come to think of it, there might not even be a need for that. It was a foregone conclusion that the indefinitely postponed 72 Boss Gathering would be reconvened. And the star of that gathering would undoubtedly be the new lord of the 7 Abyssal Palaces.

With the Valmonk incident settled, the Demon Merchant returned to the portal, taking the remaining monsters with him. Before leaving, he promised to return soon, saying something about coming fully prepared for the dungeon's restoration and expansion.

It suddenly feels so empty. According to Charlotte, the only monsters they had purchased were the Minotaur and the Basilisk, and both had died in the fight against the Hero. In the end, the only ones left in the dungeon—or rather, this cave—were me, the pack of vampires, and Charlotte. We were right back to square one.

"O-O Great Lord who defies the natural order. I am deeply mortified for being of no help. I shall repay this debt of gratitude as soon as possible!" As a side note, the way they looked at me had become incredibly burdensome. Isabella, in particular, was taking it way too far. I wondered if this was what it felt like to sit on a bed of needles at every waking moment. Though she did return to her usual way of speaking after I told her to fix her tone.

"You have done more than enough in your respective positions." "My Lord...!" Isabella and the vampires looked up at me with deeply moved, sparkling eyes. How troublesome. With a wave of my hand, I dismissed them, and the vampires scurried away in a flurry.

Sigh. What do I do now? I, who couldn't even beat that dimwitted True Ancestor vampire, had somehow become a lord of the 7 Abyssal Palaces. That alone was enough to give me a massive headache, but now I had gone and killed a Hero on top of it.

A newly established 7 Abyssal Palace killed a Hero? Oh, shit. The Empire would inevitably hear of this, and they were bound to designate me as their top priority target. They might even guard against me more than the other 7 Abyssal Palaces. The humans were a problem, but the real issue lay elsewhere. The attention of the 72 Dungeons and the Abyss would be focused on me for the foreseeable future. On me, who wasn't actually a lord of the 7 Abyssal Palaces or anything of the sort.

Judging by their misconception that I was a newly born 7 Abyssal Palace, it seemed there was a 7 Abyssal Palace that had been cleared recently. Deducing from the fact that this was currently the past timeline, the cleared dungeon was likely none other than Bango's Dark Abyss.

Even I only knew about Bango's Dark Abyss through the game's lore. The timeline of the game's starting point was set right after Bango's Dark Abyss was cleared. If so, a natural question arose: What was the actual, real new 7 Abyssal Palace that I was inadvertently impersonating?

Rank 7, the Colorless Silence. The boss was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Hermit the Recluse, if I recall correctly. It was a blessing in disguise. As the name suggested, Hermit shut himself away in his dungeon like a shut-in, dedicating his life to seclusion. That was just his personal method of growth, but still. According to the game's official canon, players could only clear the Rank 7 dungeon after clearing the Rank 5 one. This was because Hermit rarely showed his face, and the location of his dungeon was revealed quite late in the game.

He didn't have any interest in the outside world, either. He was the perfect target to impersonate. Of course, he wasn't nonexistent; he was just in hiding. For me, it meant living with the constant anxiety of never knowing when I might be exposed. Dammit.

"Lord. I have a request." Charlotte's voice abruptly cut off my train of thought. I tilted my chin arrogantly, acting exactly like a true lord of the 7 Abyssal Palaces. You might ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ask why I was acting so high and mighty in front of a crazy woman who could easily slaughter me.

Her level remained unchanged, but the color had shifted. A pale green, indicating goodwill. As long as that color didn't change, I had no reason to fear Charlotte.

"If you have no use for it, my Lord, may I take possession of the Hero's corpse?" A corpse? Ah, I understood the intent behind her question. But Valmonk had been reduced to dust, rendering the word "corpse" entirely meaningless.

"There shouldn't even be a corpse left." "Forgive my presumption, my Lord. If you would only grant permission, I wish to gather the fragments and make use of them."

So she wanted to gather the scattered, dust-like fragments and resurrect him as an undead? The very idea was insane. There truly was no psychopath as mad as this woman. Human morality aside, it was fundamentally inefficient. Even a corpse missing a single limb was difficult to turn into an undead, let alone something beyond a necromancer's capabilities. And even if she did succeed in reattaching the limbs and turning him into an undead, it would usually be a hollow shell—looking fine on the outside but incredibly weak on the inside.

The benefit of turning someone into an undead lay in raising their physical might beyond what it was in life. Thus, when an intact corpse underwent the process, its average level would typically increase by about 2 to 5. But as I said, that only applied to intact corpses. Valmonk's entire body, not just a part of it, had been reduced to dust. No matter how skilled Charlotte was, even the resurrection process itself should be nearly impossible.

"If you only intend to waste your mana, do not bother." "No, my Lord. I can do it." Was she always like this? This was completely unlike Charlotte. Beneath her expressionless face, I could sense an inexplicable stubbornness.

"I beg of you. I wish to make up for my mistake." "Your mistake?" What nonsense was she talking about? What mistake did she even make?

"I am well aware that I fell short of the qualifications for a deputy. Therefore, I wish to prove my utility to you, even if it is in this manner." Now I understood. She must have felt responsible for the whole Valmonk fiasco.

Come to think of it, I did tell her this was a test. She probably felt ashamed to remain as my deputy after failing the test her Lord had set for her.

"Do as you wish." As if she had been waiting for those words, Charlotte pulled out a reagent bottle, popped the cork, and chugged it. It was a spare mana potion. After draining three bottles in the blink of an eye, she quickly dashed off somewhere. Before long, she returned, carrying a bundle which she untied in front of me. The moment I saw its contents, my brow furrowed.

Is she insane? I crossed my arms and closed my eyes to maintain my dignified facade. I had no grotesque hobby of staring at corpse fragments. What on earth was she thinking, trying to show this off in front of me? It felt like a child begging their parents to watch a dance they had learned at kindergarten...

...I've lost my mind. How could a cute child's performance be anything like a necromancer's undead resurrection? Whether she succeeded or failed, I just wanted it to be over quickly. I tapped my fingers against my crossed arms in a subtle gesture of impatience. Though I couldn't see it, I could feel an ominous ritual being performed right before me. Mumble, mumble. Charlotte chanted her incantations. How much time had passed since then?

"Guhhh..." Taking the groan of the dead as my cue, I opened my eyes. Standing there was a patchwork undead, its body stitched together from various pieces. At the very least, she had succeeded in the resurrection.

Of course, she had only succeeded. Compared to when he was alive, his level didn't even reach his ankles. She had taken a top-tier ingredient—a Level 84 Hero—and crafted a pathetic undead. This was like using mythril, the finest of metals, to make a pair of nail clippers.

"Ah..." As if she knew it too, a brief lament escaped Charlotte's lips. Even without seeing her face, her dejected feelings were plain as day. To be honest, I had also harbored a sliver of hope, thinking, Maybe since it's Charlotte? She must have attempted it with the same hope. Given her personality, she held her own dark magic in high regard.

"Undead. Respond to your master's call." "Guhhh..." See, I told you it wouldn't work. An undead with no intelligence and no ability to speak belonged to the low-to-mid tier. Having confirmed the harsh reality herself, Charlotte hung her head low. She couldn't bring herself to look up.

But seriously, he is incredibly ugly. Perhaps because his entire body was stitched together, he was exceptionally hideous, even for an undead. He was so repulsive to look at that I wanted to tell him to get lost. I only held back because of the heavy atmosphere.

A sudden notification appeared, making me doubt my own eyes. I could evolve this patchwork ragdoll?

"I am sorry for disappointing you." I didn't even have the leeway to respond to Charlotte's apology. Even though the status window notification had popped up, my doubts remained. What kind of evolution conditions did this patchwork thing satisfy?

"Ah... Oh. Did I do something wrong?" Look at Isabella, the successful case. She had plenty of potential, had survived a near-death experience, and possessed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the mindset of sacrificing herself for her comrades, which was why her evolution succeeded with a 100% rate. In comparison, what about the Ragged Valmonk? Granted, given his original body, his potential was more than sufficient. But one had to meet at least two conditions to attempt the Evolution skill. Did Valmonk sacrifice himself for someone right before he died? Absolutely not. Then was his current state a near-death situation? ...Well, he was dead, wasn't he?

Ah. This is a bug too. The condition for evolution was when the target was exposed to the threat of death. And an undead was constantly exposed to death—simply put, they were already dead. I wasn't sure if this was an easter egg or a bug, but either way, as long as their potential was outstanding, the Evolution skill could be applied to the undead. By combining their potential with the constant threat of death, they met the minimum requirement of two conditions.

"Though it was for a short time, I have received a great debt of gratitude. I apologize for leaving after showing you only such a pathetic display." I hadn't even said anything, yet she was trying to leave, completely consumed by self-loathing. Don't go! If you leave, the dungeon is doomed! Having suddenly become a lord of the 7 Abyssal Palaces, I couldn't afford to lose such a capable talent. Feeling a bit squeamish, I placed my hand on the patchwork undead and glanced sideways at Charlotte.

"Wait." Evolve, you ragged thing.

I cheered inwardly. Unlike Isabella's 100% success rate, this was a fifty-fifty gamble, which made the sense of achievement feel even more exhilarating.

A two-stage evolution? What is this, Pokémon? Could this actually work? There were plenty of times when I had flipped a coin and got heads twice in a row. Thinking of it that way, it was definitely worth hoping for.

I didn't have the anatomy for it, but I nearly pissed myself. Unlike Isabella's evolution, the patchwork undead's entire body was shrouded in a cluster of light. When the light finally dissipated, the stitched-together ragdoll had sublimated into a dignified undead that looked vaguely human.

"Your name is Valmonk." "Val... monk... I shall... obey..."

"Valmonk. Raise both hands." The moment the words left my mouth, whoosh! He raised both hands. I nodded in satisfaction. He answered well, and he executed my commands immediately without any hesitation. With this, a Ghoul stronger than a Death Knight or a Lich was born.

In the corner of my vision, Charlotte was staring at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me with her mouth agape. After pondering what to say, I finally spoke.

"Remain here as my deputy. If you make a mistake, I will simply make up for it." "..." Charlotte, who had been gaping like a goldfish, pressed her lips tightly together. Thud. She immediately fell to her knees, prostrating herself before me. "I shall serve you as my Lord for all eternity."

Her pale green level indicator began to shift colors once more. I expected it to turn a very dark green. After all, the deeper the shade, the deeper the emotion. However, the color that caught my eye was not green at all. The color it changed to was a completely unexpected pink. The color that signified affection. ...Did she just get romantically fluttered by me?