Beneath Deathland
Simon's group had climbed onto the rooftops to escape the swarming zombies.
But the crisis was far from over. The zombies had spotted them and come flooding in, and before long they began climbing the walls of the building.
To describe it precisely, they weren't so much climbing as piling up — the zombies in front pressed flat against the wall while others clambered up their bodies, forming a hill of flesh. Watching the spectacle, Dick let out a hollow laugh.
"Hoo, that's gonna show up in my dreams for a week."
It was a sight that provoked an extreme, primal dread. Every undead in the place wailed, hungering for their lives. The only things they could rely on were the comrades at their sides.
"Let's move again."
In the end, the four of them, still wearing their Bone Armour, leapt from the rooftop without so much as a breather. The moment they vaulted a fence and dropped into an alley, the zombies on the ground came swarming after them as if they'd been waiting.
"Is this place always this insane?" Meilin panted.
"I thought we'd just watch out for a few wandering zombies and gather materials!"
Simon found it strange too. It made no sense for this many zombies to chase only them so relentlessly.
Could some artificial force be at work?
Just then, as Simon ran along the carriage road, something like a lid caught his eye. On the road, it was the only thing with a subtly different color.
"Guys! Hold on!"
Simon sprinted over, grabbed the lid's handle, and heaved it up. A wretched sewer stench rose from below, along with the sight of a ladder leading down.
"Simon! You want to go in there?"
Simon looked back. The wave of zombies, pouring toward them like a landslide, was drawing closer by the second.
"They're closing in from every direction, so I figured dropping straight down might actually be our best bet."
Dick shrugged. "You think it'll work? They'll follow us right in."
"We split their attention in our own ways first, then slip in here quietly. What do you think?"
Meilin nodded at once. "I'm in! I can block their line of sight with flame, no problem!"
"Ah, and I heard zombies are sensitive to sound!"
"Then it's settled."
Dick pulled an instrument-shaped music box out of his subspace pocket.
"It was a prototype I was getting ready to sell, but oh well."
Dick wound it with practiced fingers and let go, and the music box began blaring its tune at full volume.
"Got any more?"
Simon asked as he drew out three skeletons. Dick, matching the number, produced two more music boxes.
"We're running out of time!"
Camibarez was firing off Blood Bullets in rapid succession, toppling the approaching zombies and buying them precious seconds.
"Blocking their sight!"
Meilin swept her arm, and a wall of Jet-Black flame spread around them. Smoke billowed up with the fire, and the three of them vanished completely from view.
Here we go — please work!
Clatter-clack!
Clatter-clatter-clack!
The skeletons carrying the music boxes burst through the flames and scattered, darting off in three separate directions. The zombie hordes, drawn by the blaring music, split apart after them in three directions as well.
Now!
The four of them slipped into the sewer with swift, practiced movements. Simon, the last one in, yanked the lid shut with a heavy clunk.
The instant the lid closed, thick darkness swallowed everything. All he could feel was the texture of the rickety old ladder he gripped with all his strength.
"Everyone okay?"
"Yes!"
He waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark, then pulled a lantern from his subspace.
Now he could make out their surroundings. Simon was at the top of the ladder, with Camibarez below him, then Meilin, then Dick.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
The zombies' rough footsteps thundered directly overhead. The ceiling trembled, and grotesque howls rang out on all sides.
With nothing but a single ceiling between them, the four held their breath, tense as bowstrings.
A short while later—
"...Are they gone?"
Outside had fallen silent. The footsteps had stopped entirely; they must have moved off somewhere else. Only then did everyone let out a sigh of relief.
"So now we've got two choices," Dick said, his voice regaining its usual ease. "Go up, or go down. Either way, there's risk."
"Hmmmm."
Meilin was frowning, deep in thought, when her eyes locked squarely with Dick's.
"Hey!!"
Her face flushed crimson in an instant as she snatched at the hem of her skirt.
"Where do you think you're looking!!"
"Ah. Busted."
"Busted, my freezing foot! Die! Just die already!"
"Ack! Hey! Hey! Not the nose! The nose!"
Clutching her skirt down with one hand, Meilin started kicking Dick's face savagely with the other. In the end, Dick retreated down the ladder, out of reach of her legs.
"Ow! You're seriously kicking like you're trying to kill me! It's pitch dark in here — I could only see your silhouette anyway!"
"Then why were you looking at the silhouette, you lowborn peasant!"
While the two of them scuffled, Camibarez gave a small sigh and looked up at Simon.
"What should we do, Simon?"
"Let's go down. Standing around like this is exhausting, and if we go up now, the zombies will just be prowling around nearby."
The other two agreed, and everyone carefully climbed down to the floor of the sewer.
There was nothing special about it. An endless dark corridor stretched out before them, the sewer's signature stench and the bite of ammonia stinging their noses. Beside the narrow walkway, foul black water trickled along through the channel.
"Hmph. Works out fine, actually," Meilin said, folding her arms. "I doubt there are any materials left to scavenge up top. So let's just follow the sewer all the way into the deep heart of Deathland!"
Dick dusted off his head. "Whoa, hold on, you serious? There are this many zombies near the entrance — go any deeper and we might hit an actual zombie nest."
She cocked the corner of her mouth. "Scared?"
"Ahem! S-scarred? Who's scared! I'm just saying we should think rationally instead of charging in on impulse!"
Dick and Meilin turned their heads in unison to look at Simon. Both of them wore expressions that plainly said, I'm right, aren't I?
Simon considered for a moment before answering.
"Meilin's right. Any materials near the camp have already been picked clean."
Class C had gone out before Class A, and according to the club seniors, every student in Professor Aaron's Summoning class had come to Deathland the past two years as well. And the camp's location was always the same.
"So we really do have to go deeper, then?"
Simon nodded at Camibarez's question. "Yeah. I think that's exactly why he gave us twelve hours for the assessment, and why he made us move in groups — the materials are just too hard to get otherwise."
Dick clicked his tongue and nodded. "Tch. Fine, I'm convinced."
"If we all work together, we'll be okay!"
And so the four of them reached an agreement.
Simon and his teammates walked the sewers, waiting for another route back to the surface to appear.
Simon studied his teammates' faces. Maybe the zombie ambush had rattled them more than he'd thought — yet there they were, chatting away as calmly as ever.
Pier.
Simon pressed down firmly on Pier's shard and spoke to him in his mind.
What do you think?
[Kheheh! Hard to say. Zombies are the strangest breed among the undead — you can't judge anything rashly from their behavior alone!]
Hm.
[But still, one could hazard a guess, no?]
Pier's shard curled its lips upward.
[Prince, commander of my former Legion! He may well have been moving the zombies from behind the scenes!]
That's what I thought too. Please tell me more about Prince's abilities and personality.
Pier launched into it as if he'd been waiting for the question.
[Prince's most essential power is the 'Crown.']
The Crown?
[When he dons that crown, he gains dominion over undead of his own lineage — in other words, zombies!]
Simon nodded. It was like a lesser mirror of a Legion Commander's power, limited to controlling only zombies.
[Where it differs from a Legion Commander is this: he can control even zombies that haven't been through 'Legionification'! With that power, in Deathland — where more than ninety percent of all undead are zombies — he could reign like a veritable king! That's why I wanted to come here.]
Understood. Then let me change the question — is Prince well-disposed toward the Legion?
It took Pier a little while to answer.
[I can't say for certain. Back in the days of Richard's Legion, Prince was one of the moderates, loyal to the Legion Commander. He seemed to hold him in genuine admiration, even.]
Ah.
[But as you know, the Legion met a bitter end. What Prince thinks now — we'll only know when we meet him.]
If this massive zombie assault really was Prince's doing — and if the reason was that he'd recognized Simon as the Legion Commander—
Then Simon might have no choice but to bend Prince to his will by force.
"Simon!"
Simon flinched and turned. Camibarez was beaming at him.
"What are you thinking about so hard?"
"Uhh... nothing. What's up?"
Dick thrust his face forward. "I was asking what you think of Meilin's brutality — how she turned an innocent man's face into ground meat just for being beneath her."
"...Please die. Please, the moment we get back to Kizen, get hit by a carriage and die."
So they walked on, for a long while yet.
Their legs were starting to ache, and just when they thought the sewer stench would deaden their noses completely—
"A ladder!"
They'd finally found a route to the surface. Unlike the others, this ladder was even in good condition.
"Let's go."
Simon led the way up the ladder.
Dick went next, bowing like a nobleman and declaring "Ladies first" — for which Meilin seized him by the hair and gave him a few good yanks. Nothing out of the ordinary, really.
After Simon came Dick, and the girls followed.
Clunk.
Simon, the last one up, pushed hard against the ceiling. Sky appeared, and a cool breeze washed over him.
He hauled himself up and reached down to help the rest of the team out.
"Wooow."
Camibarez, the last one up, let out a soft gasp.
"It's so beautiful!"
They had emerged into the garden of a grand, luxurious mansion.
There wasn't a zombie in sight. This garden alone looked as though someone had tended it — the flowers and trees were in full, proper bloom. After hours in the sewer, the scent of blossoms made their noses sing with joy.
"To think a place like this existed in Deathland..."
It was a lovely spot, he thought — but the assessment came before sightseeing.
"Let's search here."
"Right."
The four spread out and began combing the garden.
[Boy.]
Just then, Pier spoke to him.
[I sense traces of a wide-ranging barrier on this grounds.]
Yes? What kind of barrier?
[A severance effect. It's been lifted now, but it seems there was once a being who wished to hide this place.]
"Kyaaaaah!"
He was still focusing on Pier's words when Camibarez's scream suddenly rang out.
"What is it? Cami!"
The three of them rushed over to her, out of breath.
"Th-there...!"
A person was lying collapsed in the garden.
While the others hesitated to approach, Simon strode forward and examined the body. Judging by the uniform, she appeared to be a maid who had worked at this mansion.
"She's already dead. A long time ago."
A world without decay.
Though her breath had long since ceased, the corpse had neither rotted nor withered. Which somehow made it all the more chilling.
"Maybe it's better if you don't look—"
"Don't you dare coddle me, Simon."
Meilin came forward, her eyes hard.
"I'm a necromancer too."
Dick and Camibarez each took a step forward as well. Meilin strode boldly up to the corpse, crouched before it, and began examining its condition, pulling back the fabric.
"It meets the textbook conditions for Summoning. If we turned her into a zombie it would at least spare us a zero... but honestly, this alone isn't enough."
"Let's keep looking."
They scattered again and resumed the search.
This time it was Dick who called everyone over.
"With this, an A-plus is basically in the bag, no?"
Behind the mansion lay the corpse of a man who looked to have been a guard. He was powerfully built, nearly two meters tall, his whole body packed with muscle — clearly a man who had trained hard in life.
"Physically, he's the best specimen we could ask for."
"Yes."
And yet everyone's face was full of hesitation.
It made sense. Until now, they had always used undead raised from materials that someone else had already prepared with magic.
But now they had to turn the corpse before their very eyes into a zombie themselves.
When so many students and seniors who had come here before described their time in 'Deathland' as grueling, it probably hadn't been the zombies' attacks they meant.
"I'll do it."
Simon rolled up his sleeves and stepped forward, and Meilin's brow hardened.
"Hey, hold on! I can do it too!"
"I'm better at Summoning than you, remember? And my marks were higher on zombie summoning magic too."
Throwing grades in her face shut Meilin right up.
Simon drew a deep breath and knelt before the corpse. Then he placed his palm flat on its chest.
This person is already dead. Don't get sentimental about it.
The core value of the necromancer's profession was pragmatism.
To win a battle, a necromancer had to make use of everything — a dead man's corpse, anything at all, whatever it took.
Simon raised his Jet-Black and began to draw a magic circle on the corpse's chest.
Whew.
Skeletons and zombies were both low-tier undead. Yet at Kizen and the other necromancer academies alike, Summoning professors taught primarily with skeletons.
In this age of peace, out of consideration for the students' sensibilities, some schools avoided zombies altogether, or showed only zombies made from monsters.
But Aaron was different.
He had brought first-year students, still in their very first semester, all the way to Deathland to raise zombies with their own hands. By his educational philosophy, this was simply what a necromancer had to do.
Pierce to the root of it.
Face it.
And awaken.
Just as a surgeon who cannot dissect a body will never survive, for a necromancer this was inevitability itself.
Simon poured his Jet-Black into the magic circle.
Vvvvvvvvmmmm!
At last, the black magic circle on the corpse's chest flared to life.