The Prince's Seven Lives
The war had begun.
Skeleton troops led by Manus—the Swordmaster of the fallen Empire, now an Ancient Undead—were pouring into Prince's estate.
The zombies that once ruled Deathland were having a rough time of it. Some of them had taken heavy damage in their earlier fight with Pier, but there was a far bigger problem at hand.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
Manus's forces had deployed a new type of undead at the very front of their line.
Javier's masterpiece: the **Meat Golem**. Short legs, a torso swollen like a roly-poly toy, and a tiny head perched on top.
Its defining feature was that its entire body was covered in a tough yet springy biological skin.
—Aaaaargh!
—Uuuaaargh!
And the zombies' teeth and claws were doing absolutely nothing against that hide.
No matter how they tore at it, all they produced was the scraping sound of nails on leather, while the Meat Golems trampled through them, swinging their long arms. A single sweep sent ten tightly packed zombies flying like rag dolls.
There were sixteen Meat Golems in total. With that many giant monsters pushing forward at the very front, the zombies alone didn't stand a chance.
[...Damn it all!]
Prince was grinding his teeth from inside the mansion, watching it all unfold.
Those modified Meat Golems had streamlined every other function to focus everything on reinforcing their shells. They were, in essence, undead built for one purpose only—killing zombies.
He had no idea whose work this was, but his temper was boiling over.
—Graaaaah.
[I know!]
Prince snapped irritably at the zombie's groan, then strode over to gaze at his true body seated on the throne.
It was a shriveled corpse, a crown resting upon its head.
Prince wore a crown too, but that one was merely a replica conjured by his ability. The crown on his true body gleamed with a brilliant light, as if proving it was the real thing.
*I can never hand over that crown.*
Prince turned to face his zombie minions.
[Simon will be here soon. When he shows up, tie him up in chains and throw him in the dungeon. He won't try anything reckless once he knows that woman is our hostage.]
—Aaaaargh.
Click.
Prince opened the window.
He cast one last look at his true body, then hurled himself out of the mansion.
* * *
Whoosh.
Manus surveyed the battlefield.
He was satisfied. His side was outnumbered, but so long as the Meat Golems remained impervious to zombie attacks, the tide of battle flowed in his favor.
*Still, the zombies' aggression remains a threat.*
In truth, the horde was already worming its way into the gaps between the Meat Golems.
Manus walked slowly toward them, hand closing around the sword at his hip.
Shing!
The moment Manus's blade cleared its sheath, a single sword stroke carved a straight line through the enemy ranks.
That was all it took. With a sickening sound of rending flesh, blood sprayed in every direction, and the bisected zombies collapsed to the ground in heaps.
Clap clap clap!
"Ah, magnificent! As expected of him!"
"Incredible, Sir Manus!"
Behind Manus, two of Javier's subordinates were clapping furiously, fawning for all they were worth.
[The war has begun—so where is Javier?]
"It seems he ran into a small problem!"
"But he'll be back any moment!"
[Hmph.]
Javier was hardly a pleasant man, but Manus could not deny his competence.
Not only had Javier developed the Meat Golems, he had also discovered the way through Prince's barrier. The timing of the assault on the mansion, in particular, could not have been better chosen.
He had struck precisely while Prince's defenses were in disarray.
Speak of the devil—and there he was, suddenly appearing behind them, Javier's hands gripping the heads of his two subordinates.
Manus's face twisted in distaste.
[What in the world happened to you, Javier?]
Javier's entire body was twisted up like a mummy's. He quietly began to chant.
Life Drain
As the magic circle in his palm activated, his subordinates thrashed and shrieked in agony. Gradually, the two men's bodies twisted into mummified husks, while Javier slowly returned to his original form.
"Haaah! Whew. I feel alive again."
When Javier released his grip, two mummies crumpled to the ground.
[Did you truly need to drain every last drop of their life? They were your own subordinates.]
Manus asked with clear disapproval.
"That's what the salary was for."
He smashed his staff against the ground, and the men's skin split open, skeletons bursting out from within.
Javier, as if this were the most natural thing in the world, opened a subspace and collected the skeletons.
[Hmph.]
Even to Manus, a fellow undead, it was not a pleasant sight.
"Sorry I'm late. Some strange fellow got in my way."
Javier brushed the dust from his clothes.
[It doesn't matter. From this point on, focus on the war.]
"Of course. How goes the battle?"
[It unfolds exactly as we anticipated.]
Moving Prince's true body elsewhere would take enormous time and effort.
The Zombie Prince would surely fight to the bitter end to defend his mansion—so once they pushed back the horde and breached the estate, victory would be theirs.
"Of course, I doubt the Zombie Prince will simply stand by and watch."
Javier narrowed his eyes, scanning the battlefield.
"Heh heh heh. Here he comes!"
* * *
Prince arrived at the battlefield.
Even before he got there, his target had already been decided.
The Meat Golems, impervious to ordinary zombie attacks. Unless he destroyed every last one of them, there was no path to victory.
[Kyaaaah!]
Prince charged at full sprint and drove his fist into the belly of the nearest Meat Golem.
KUUUUNG!
The point of impact caved in around his fist, and the golem's gut rippled like water.
*Shock absorption?*
Crack!
The Meat Golem's counterattack slammed into him next. It didn't hurt, but fierce fury boiled across Prince's face.
[A patchwork monstrosity with no foundation whatsoever!]
He immediately changed his approach. This time he climbed up the golem's torso and went for its head. He locked both legs around it with crushing force, then wrenched sideways.
Crunch!
With a sound of snapping vertebrae, the Meat Golem let out a pained howl. Prince raised his fist high.
BAM! Crack! Splurch! WHAM!
Under the relentless barrage, the golem's face collapsed into a bloody, mangled ruin. Before long, the massive body lurched and crashed to the ground.
[Now!]
Prince issued the charge command to his zombies.
—Aaaaaaargh!
—Keeeeeh!
The horde, which had been jammed up against the Meat Golems, finally poured through like water bursting through a broken dam, and threw themselves at the main body of Manus's skeleton army.
For the first time, the battle felt like it was breathing again.
*Next.*
Fifteen Meat Golems remained.
It was a dizzying number, but there was nothing for it.
Prince sprinted toward the second Meat Golem. Once again he dodged its attacks and climbed up to where the head sat.
*I'll finish this one fast.*
Just as he raised his fist high—
Shing.
The sound of a blade swinging rang in his ears. Prince felt his vision suddenly soar upward.
He rolled his eyes downward. He saw the battlefield, zombies and Meat Golems tangled together—and, most of all, he saw his own body still astride the golem.
That body had no head.
[...!]
The world drained to grey as his vision flipped.
Prince's eyes opened inside the mansion. He had returned to his true body.
*What? What just hit me?*
The ability of Prince, the Ancient Undead.
He possessed up to nine regenerable "lives," recovering one per week so long as he devoted himself to rest.
And just now, one of those precious lives had been snuffed out in the most meaningless way imaginable.
*Damn it!*
He had to return to the battlefield.
Prince stared out the window, then made a nearby zombie into himself.
KRAKOOM!
Jet-Black lightning crashed down and swallowed the zombie's body, which transformed into Prince in moments. Back on the battlefield in an instant, he lifted his head.
He saw the Meat Golems—and the headless corpse of the zombie that had been "him" moments before, still tumbling through the air.
And a little way off from it.
Click.
A skeleton in cloth robes patterned with red flowers, sliding his sword back into its sheath.
That was the one.
[MANUS!!]
Prince lunged, seething with rage. Manus spotted him too, gripped his sword hilt, and lowered his stance.
*It's fine.*
He can't cut me.
I only lost before because I was careless and hadn't wrapped myself in Jet-Black.
As Manus's sword stroke came flying, Prince raised both arms in a defensive guard.
SHRAAAACK!
[...!]
A massive gash opened across his arms, and a fountain of black blood erupted from it.
The wound was deep. Even with Jet-Black reinforcing his arms, they had nearly come clean off.
[Surprised?]
Manus spoke, his blade still tracing through its downward arc.
[In our battle decades ago, I could not cut you. But after tasting that defeat, I changed my thinking a great deal.]
[You...!]
Manus's blade was dyed pitch-black with Jet-Black.
[I abandoned my obsession with the old swordsmanship. I abandoned my attempts to mimic aura with Jet-Black. I admitted it—that Jet-Black is superior to aura. Instead, I devoted myself entirely to amplifying my blade's cutting power with the power of Jet-Black. The result is the wound you now wear.]
Manus's eyes flared.
[I can cut you now.]
[Don't you DARE climb back up on the strength of one measly life, you piece of garbage!!]
As Manus swung his sword, Prince once again threw his arms forward in a guard.
Shing.
But this time, a thin line appeared across his left forearm—and the forearm simply dropped away.
[GRRAAAAAAH!]
He had lost an arm, but Prince did not stop his charge.
It was faster than waiting for Manus to swing again—Prince grabbed the blade with his bare hand. Blood poured freely from his palm, but he wrenched the sword toward himself and thrust out his fist.
But the fist never came.
His left hand was empty—gone from the last attack. It was the kind of confusion Prince often suffered from, an inherent flaw of borrowing other bodies.
[Your tactics have not changed one bit in decades.]
[You bastard!]
Prince split his jaws wide and tried to tear at Manus with his teeth.
[Kugh!]
But suddenly, all the strength drained from his body as if by magic. Prince crumpled to one knee.
Behind him floated a red magic circle that looked painted in blood, and a single rose had taken root in Prince's body and was growing.
"Your body possesses a powerful immunity to curses."
Prince turned around, and his pupils dilated.
"So I refined bloodline-arts techniques instead. A resounding success, I'd say."
[JAVIER!! You betrayed me!]
"Betrayed you? I was never on your side to begin with. We had a business relationship, nothing more, wouldn't you say?"
Javier smiled greasily and reached out his hand. As the rose swelled ever larger, the strength seeped out of Prince's body.
[JAVIER!!!]
The moment Prince weakened, Manus wrenched his trapped sword free by force. His fingers came off in a single chunk.
[With this.]
Manus's blade swept once more through Prince's neck.
[Seven lives remain.]
Prince's world blurred and his vision flipped. When he came to, he was back in the mansion, in his true body.
*Damn it! Damn it! DAMN IT!*
He needed time to think.
This time Prince did not head straight for the battlefield; he descended into a zombie waiting near his throne. Color returned to his grey vision.
*Damn it!!*
Seven left, he says?
The truth was six.
Thanks to those Legion bastards, one precious life had been wasted away for nothing, and it burned.
What do I do now?
Can I dodge those two and smash every last Meat Golem?
Even if I burn through all six remaining lives?
—Uuuuaaaargh.
Just then, a zombie approached and made its report. Prince's face contorted violently.
[An intruder? I just came back from fighting Manus and you're telling me this? I'm about to lose my mind, and you keep—]
KRAAAAANG!
Before he could even finish, the door to the room exploded inward with a deafening roar.
Beyond the shattered frame stretched a long, human leg.
Thud. Thud.
As the man emerged from the thick cloud of dust, Prince's eyes flushed red as if they would burst with blood.
"Even when the world's got you down, smooth out that scowl, Prince."
There was no expression that fit a moment quite like this one—out of the frying pan, into the fire.
Simon, clad in Bone Armour, was stepping into the room.
[Kgh...!]
"Prince."
Simon leveled his greatsword, a crooked smile playing on his lips.
"How many lives do you have left?"