Crafting the Zombie Warrior
“So you have come here again.”
“I didn’t think I’d be back the very next day either.”
Clang!
Clang!
The ring of hammers filled the air from every direction. The blacksmith street burned hot as ever. Minho cut across the path, the heat from the metal-refining fires washing over him in waves.
“Here for a trial experience?”
“Rental.”
“Four hours for three hundred thousand won.”
The sun already leaned well toward the west. Extending the rental the way he had last time would be difficult. He needed to work fast.
Death Space
2/10 → 1/10
Thud!
A massive body burst from the pitch-black space and flopped onto the floor—an Orc Grunt corpse, the base for a new undead. Weight: roughly two hundred kilograms. Thanks to the Death Space skill, he had conserved subspace capacity.
“Will you craft it into an undead at once?”
“Corpse crafting isn’t a one-click job, you know.”
How many times did he have to explain it? Turning a corpse into an undead required a maturing process. Truly. If a single spell could raise the dead, he never would have gone through all that suffering.
He took out the mana stones obtained during the gate clear, scalpel in hand, and opened the flesh of both forearms, both thighs, and the chest. He carved out sockets large enough for the stones and seated five D-rank mana stones he had not sold at the Hunter Market.
Corpse Processing
The power within the mana stones converted into spiritual energy, accelerating a maturing process that would otherwise have taken far longer.
“This way I can halt decay and raise performance at the same time.”
“Remarkable indeed.”
“The minor downside is that it costs mana stones.”
The Orc Zombie Mk.42 that had served as Sir Isra’s base had been matured with mana stones the same way. Fully absorbing the energy of D-rank stones would take about two hours. While he waited, he would finish the rest of the preparatory work.
◈ When crafting undead: Agility +10%
He transplanted the tendons throughout the sprawled Orc Grunt corpse.
◈ When crafting undead: Strength +12%
◈ On strike: low chance to inflict Freeze Lv. 8
He reinforced the major muscle groups as well. While the skin and flesh were already open, he also engraved spiritual circuits. He could not match the meticulous detail he had given Sir Isra, but a solid performance gain was still expected.
“Whew.”
He wiped the sweat from his brow. Tearing and rejoining the flesh of a corpse after rigor mortis had passed—easy to describe, hard to do. It demanded real strength, and delicacy too. How many zombie corpses had he handled while scraping by as an E-rank hunter?
“That experience has shaped the man you are today, my lord.”
“You’re pretty good at dressing things up.”
“I am merely acknowledging your efforts.”
He had tried to change the subject out of sheer embarrassment, only for her to drive the point home again. Sir Isra. Did people never tell her she was hopeless at reading the room?
Roughly thirty minutes had passed.
“Why was that so fast?”
“Is something amiss?”
“The modifications went well. Probably.”
He would only know for certain once he raised it through corpse crafting, but years of experience told him the process itself had been flawless. He was simply startled by how much quicker the work had gone than expected.
“Is this the influence of the Heavenly Martial Body as well?”
Force distribution. Precision. Everything had improved. In the past he had needed absolute concentration for every single stroke of the scalpel. Now? A smooth glide, and it flowed like water. He almost wondered how something this simple had ever felt so difficult.
“A fair amount of time remains.”
“Let’s tackle the other work.”
White bones spilled from the subspace bag.
There were simply too many, and too heavy, to remove one by one, so he dumped them all.
“Sir, put them up on the table.”
“As you will.”
Sir Isra rose from the shadows and helped him sort. Soon the bones lay in neat piles ordered by size. Whew. Everything felt calmer once it was organized.
“If only my old workshop could be set in order so neatly.”
“Shh.”
That was that, and this was this.
“Are these bones required for crafting the Zombie Warrior as well?”
“I’m going to make armaments for it, the way I did for you.”
Two meters tall. A physique that called a bodybuilder to mind. Heavy armor would suit a frame like that far better than light armor. Minho rolled up his sleeves.
“Time to put some real skill on display.”
The moment Minho dumped the bones, the blacksmith on daily duty went wide-eyed.
He’s actually working with bone?
Two days earlier, at the most prestigious forge in the country, Hanil Blacksmith’s chief apprentice Nam Jinwoo had walked the street saying:
—There’s a blacksmith who forges weapons from bone.
—His skill with bone was every bit as great as mine.
—If the renter of the workshop starts working bone, be sure to call me at once.
He had dismissed it as nonsense. Bone? Aside from a few monster parts, it was useless material. Alchemists might manage something—they engraved mana circuits for reinforcement—but it simply did not pair with blacksmiths who refined with fire and oil.
That was what he had believed.
Clang!
Clang!
“Hooo.”
The hammer struck bone heated cherry-red. Bone softened by heat should have shattered into fragments. Yet every time Minho brought the hammer down, the bone compressed a little further and shifted shape.
Chief apprentice Nam Jinwoo was right!
The blacksmith who had been staring blankly spun around. He had to carry the news to Nam Jinwoo at once. Before long several blacksmiths came running—among them the chief apprentice himself.
“I told you so!”
“Chief apprentice. Quiet.”
“Don’t disturb the work.”
The other blacksmiths shot him warning looks, so Nam Jinwoo could only glare resentfully. When he had claimed a blacksmith who treated bone like metal had appeared, not a single person had believed him. And now that the man was real, they told him to keep quiet?
“Whoa. Incredible.”
“Why doesn’t the bone break?”
“Must possess some special skill.”
Nam Jinwoo wanted to speak up, but he held his tongue—he had no choice. Roughly half of those who had flocked to watch Minho’s work were not apprentices at all, but full blacksmiths, the very faces of their workshops. Even as chief apprentice of Hanil Blacksmith, Nam Jinwoo’s name carried far less weight than a certified master.
“Where did he learn that hammer work?”
“No—those habits aren’t from Blacksmith Street.”
“Haaah. Doesn’t look trained, yet the force distribution is that even…”
The blacksmiths noted exactly the same points that had once left Nam Jinwoo in awe. Completely unaware of the growing number of eyes on him, Minho remained absorbed in the metallurgy of bone.
Whoosh.
Heat the bone. Strike with the hammer. Quench. Repeat.
Damn. This was brutally hard. Because it was heavy armor? The workload dwarfed what he had done for Sir Isra’s armaments.
“Catch your breath a moment.”
“No. That would break the concentration.”
When the feeling was right, he had to finish everything in one go.
Clang!
Somehow he shaped and bound the full one hundred fifty kilograms of bone into a passable form—helm, plate mail, and greaves.
“Urrgh.”
He arched his back to work out the stiffness, and that was when the crowd gathered near the forge finally registered.
What. Those guys.
Had they been watching him work the whole time?
“What are you doing?”
“Ahem. Young man—you’ve never studied hammer work separately, have you?”
“Come to Jingun Blacksmith and I’ll make you chief apprentice on the spot!”
“How about learning proper blacksmithing for real?”
What was with these people? Why were their eyes spinning like that? He didn’t know, and it was scary.
“Sirs, this gentleman is a visitor. Please be careful.”
A young man stepped between Minho and the blacksmiths. Come to think of it, the face was familiar—the same person from two days ago.
“We meet again.”
We’re acquaintances, right? So maybe you could explain this circus for me?
“The guest’s talent is exceptional. The masters seem to have grown greedy.”
“Looks like you all watched the entire process.”
The excited masters made awkward “ah—” faces. Observing a work process was not illegal. Still, sensitive masters often kept their workshop interiors hidden; even a small noise could shatter concentration, they claimed.
“Oh dear. We were rude.”
“Sorry about that.”
The masters coughed into their fists.
“Sirs, our guest seems a bit put out. Shouldn’t we offer him something?”
“Ah—wait a moment.”
“I happen to have some leftover minerals. Just a second!”
The masters scattered in a fluster. Wow. Nice traffic control. He had been so focused on hammering bone that he had never noticed the audience. If they wanted to look after him like this, he certainly would not refuse.
“Thank you. Uh… Nam Jinwoo, right?”
“Yes. Nam Jinwoo, chief apprentice of Hanil Blacksmith.”
Self-promotion in the gaps—he had the business card from last time, so he already knew the name. He had simply forgotten it was Hanil Blacksmith. Hanil was the best in the country. Anyone serving as chief apprentice there had to be formidable. No harm in remembering that.
“But, guest.”
Nam Jinwoo carefully indicated the heavy armor forged from bone.
“In that form, donning and doffing will be difficult.”
“I imagine so.”
“Frankly, it’s hard to expect much performance from it as armor either.”
To restate the obvious: Minho was not a proper blacksmith. Heavy armor? He did not even know correct structure. He simply made things as he pleased, wherever his hands led. Yet he still refined bone with confidence for one reason alone—the one who would wear this was an undead.
“I fitted the frame to the Orc Grunt’s build.”
“Th-this is for the corpse to use?”
“Yes.”
Was “wear” even the right word? “Drape” felt more accurate. In any case, once it was in place he would link everything with spiritual circuits. Then it should register as part of the original body. Even if it differed from real plate mail, it would not matter. An undead never put armor on or took it off.
“The energy contained in the mana stones was fully expended some time ago.”
“Good.”
Before raising the undead, he carefully fitted the hard-won bone heavy armor. The back pieces were impossible without Sir Isra holding the corpse upright. He matched the multi-part armor as best he could.
Spiritual Circuit
He linked the armor’s joints and extended the circuits all the way to the points where bone met Orc Grunt skin.
“Ah.”
“What is it?”
“I shouldn’t have put the armor on first.”
“Indeed?”
“If I’d carved grooves into the corpse beforehand and connected bone to bone, it would have been better.”
Perhaps because it was the first attempt, the improvements sprang to mind immediately. Regrettable. Next time he would do better.
Once the pre-engraved spiritual circuits and the armor lines were joined, the rental time had almost run out. Whew. He had barely finished.
“Finally, slot this in and prep is done.”
The split soulstone sank deep into the Orc Grunt’s forehead.
Whew. His hands were trembling. This was the first corpse crafting he had attempted since ranking up. A new undead. Added armament. And the wild card of a split soulstone on top of it. He had no idea what synergy might result, so excitement and nervousness warred in his chest as he drew up his mana.
“Open your eyes.”
Corpse Crafting
Crafting Zombie Warrior.
Detecting a special wavelength from the target corpse.
It is a new form not recorded in the System.