Nozomanu Fushi no Boukensha (LN) - Volume 1 - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: A Grasp of the Situation and Existential Evolution 

I found myself at a complete loss. My first thought—What should I be doing? 

For starters, it would be fair to say that I had definitely been eaten by the dragon. I supposed I should be greatful, even if I were alive in a somewhat non-human form. 

Well, no. I could not be sure of that... Was I even alive in the first place? Skeletons were a type of undead monster, creatures that have already died once. As such, it would be easy for bishops and priests of the church to exorcise them with simple cleansing magic. If anything, they were exceptionally weak monsters. 

The explanation behind skeletons being cleansed was simple. Being a sack of walking bones, they were creatures brought forth against the divine logic of the gods. Other explanations included the more simple “they are dead, and as such cannot exist on this world.” Succinct, but true. This continued defiance of the divine rules of life and death was apparently the prime reason for their weakness to said magic. 

Personally, I had no idea if any of this held water. In the first place, I wasn’t a bishop or priest. However, the general argument for it seemed sound, and for myself at this point in time, it was a critically important piece of information. Plainly put, if I were to expand upon that logic, I was definitely very, very dead. More accurately, I was existing in the world as a dead pile of bones. This was a very bad thing indeed. 

As I mentioned before, the fact that a dead being continued to exist apparently flaunted some severe laws of the divine nature. If I were to simply saunter back into town and enter a tavern as if nothing had happened, it would not end well. No matter how much I would claim that I was Rentt Faina, some no-good priest who spent all his time in the tavern from morning to night would chance upon me and then promptly get rid of me with his stave. If this were to come to pass, my existence would simply be erased. This was something I definitely wanted to avoid. 

Such were the bones of the situation. On the bright side, I was still alive. Even if I were to exist as a skeleton and defy the laws of life and death, as far as I was concerned, my consciousness was intact; I was still very much alive. This was precisely why I could not simply skip back to town and carelessly get myself killed. 

Well, then, what should I do? That was the burning question. 

This was the Water Moon Dungeon; adventurers would certainly make their way to the dungeon as they always had, merrily killing what monsters they found along the way. Even for a relatively beginner-oriented dungeon populated by weaker monsters, adventurers stronger than myself often made their way here. If I appeared before such individuals, I would certainly be killed—for good this time. 

Whatever, then, should I do...? 

As I continued to think, a few strings of thought connected in my mind. It was perhaps safe to assume that I was now a monster of some sort. There’s a certain mysterious aspect to monsters: older and more experienced monsters tended to evolve into more powerful versions of themselves. This phenomenon was commonly referred to as “Existential Evolution.” Although I was not absolutely sure if I was a monster to begin with, I seemed to be some sort of walking skeleton at a glance. If that really were the case, then wouldn’t this concept apply to me, as well? 

—The whole “Existential Evolution” thing, I mean. After all, having knowledge of monsters was sort of an occupational requirement for adventurers. If memory served, skeletons could apparently evolve into flesh-eating ghouls—at least, that’s what I remembered reading in a book about monsters some time ago. 

Although ghouls were also a type of undead monster, and hence also went against the divine laws governing life and death, they at the very least had a more humanoid appearance than a skeleton did. Rotted and dried out though it may be, a ghoul even had flesh. With a robe and mask, I could perhaps pass for a human—those were my thoughts on the matter. 

If I did this, I would be able to sneak into town rather uneventfully, and I would finally get the chance to explain the nature of this situation to my friends and compatriots. I was, of course, very much aware of the absurd nature of my plan. If anything, it was not very well thought-out. However, this was all I had to work with at this point. 

I made a decision— 

I would aim to somehow trigger this Existential Evolution. I, Rentt Faina, would evolve into a ghoul in the Water Moon Dungeon. 

The Existential Evolution from skeleton to ghoul was the first thing I had to address. Although I had already decided on that course of action, I was unsure of the extent of my combat abilities. I was only a low-ranked Bronze-class adventurer, near the bottom rungs of the guild. I did, however, fare better than Iron-class adventurers, who were the newest of the new. If I were to objectively state my combat prowess, I would say that taking down one or two goblins and skeletons was doable and well within safe limits. I could do at least that much— 

Although I probably would not come out of it unscathed. 

If there were three enemies, it would perhaps be a little more difficult, but I would still be able to win, somehow. If there were four enemies, I would definitely run; if there were five, I would be done for. That was how it looked at this point in time. 

It would not be fair, however, to call me weak. I didn’t have much say in the matter to begin with, having begun my journey as an adventurer only a decade ago, but I had been training hard for almost 20 years. In fact, I would actually like some empathy here—I had trained for that long, but I could only do this much. 

If one were to ask why I had spent that much time and effort training only to have nothing much to show for it, the answer was very simple: I didn’t have enough reserves of mana, spirit, or divinity. In addition, I didn’t have many of the abilities required to adequately control my already meager reserves of power. It could be said that this was a more-than-fatal issue for any budding adventurer. 

Frankly speaking, I would actually appreciate some praise for having made it thus far. 

I suppose I haven’t explained what magic, spirit, and divinity are. Let us talk about the nature of mana, to start. Mana is a required prerequisite for the casting of magical spells—the font of mysterious magical energy that some rare individuals are born with. If one were to put it simply, those blessed with mana at birth are able to conjure flames and wind without the use of any tools, to cause water to flow freely from nowhere, and to persuade the earth itself to move beneath their feet. In more ways than one, magic is a very convenient skill. 

Although the ratios differed between the various races of sentient beings that populated these lands, one in approximately every 50 humans was born with mana in their being. This was no small number. However, those with enough mana and aptitude to actually become successful mages numbered at one for every thousand—such was the rarity of this blessing. As long as the user possessed a certain amount of mana, however, simple spells like the venerable Foteia Borivaas fireball, or the Gie Vieros earthen arrow, could be cast without too much trouble. Though, to proceed beyond rudimentary attack spells, one would require the aforementioned combination of mana and aptitude, which was available only to one in a thousand humans on average. 

It’s perhaps worth mentioning that, while I did have some mana reserves at birth, they were pathetically low—hardly a fraction of what one would need to become a powerful mage. After all, I hadn’t been able to cast any low-level attack spells despite my long periods of training. My lack of talent in this field was painfully apparent. 

I could, however, conjure water for drinking and embers to light campfires with. For that, I was grateful, even if said blessings were small ones. Yet it was extremely regrettable that I couldn’t use magic in combat. 

Next, an explanation of spirit would perhaps be in order. Often referred to by a plethora of other names, such as “Chakra” or “Prana,” spirit is the life force of all living things. 

Unlike magic, spirit is the root of all life, and as such is available to any and all living persons. If one were to use it well, one could strengthen their own body, augment their attacks, and even obtain stamina way above that of an average human. However, as most individuals subconsciously used spirit as a means of staying alive, few come to realize its true potential. On the other hand, even if one were to become aware of one’s own spirit, a significant amount of training was required to use it adequately, in addition to requiring a natural aptitude for channeling one’s life force. 

In my case, I didn’t have enough command over my spirit reserves to actually utilize it effectively, even though I’d become aware of its existence. But even so, I did come up with the ability to amplify the force of a single attack by 1.5 times once in a single day—personally, I considered that ability my trump card. But although the augmented attack did carry a significant amount of force, it would certainly be seen as child’s play to an actual practitioner of the spirit arts. 

Last but not least would be an explanation of divinity. I suppose you could say it is even rarer than the blessing of mana as most people have no affinity for it whatsoever. It is said that divinity is bestowed unto humans by divine beings, such as gods or faeries. Having any pool of divinity in oneself is considered a rare thing indeed, and most people blessed with it find themselves working for the church. 

Depending on how one uses it, divinity is known for enabling the use of healing and cleansing spells which, on a rudimentary level, could be used to heal illnesses or purify the undead. Wielders of greater fonts of divinity are even able to purify vast tracts of corrupted land. In addition, due to its nature as an ability bestowed by divine beings, the lucky few with divinity in them find themselves able to communicate with faeries and gods. In some cases, they even rise to prominent social positions. 

In this case, if we were just talking about a run-of-the-mill individual, they probably would not have a single trace of divinity in them at all. But I, for one reason or another, did have a sliver of divinity in me. That said, a sliver is a sliver, so greater tasks were beyond me. 

If memory serves, this snippet of divinity originated from an event in my younger days, where I decided, for some reason, to fix a local run-down shrine of sorts. The spirits that inhabited that shrine probably saw fit to bless me, and that was that. 

Although I had been able to use the divine arts a little since then, all I had managed to do was purify dirty water so it was safe for drinking, or to clear a wound of its infections. Things like closing wounds instantly or purifying corrupted land was, and still is, unfortunately beyond me. It is, however, still a very handy life skill to have. More often than not, I find myself thanking that faerie or spirit from the bottom of my heart. 

And that concludes my explanation as to why it was difficult for me to continue in my capacity as an adventurer with only this much aptitude and ability. After all, the fonts of mana and divinity within me were small, and even I knew that I was not exactly cut out for adventuring. 

It is perhaps worth noting that individuals with the ability to command and utilize all three abilities were very rare. In fact, I do not recall encountering another quite like myself. Unfortunately, with the important factor not being quantity but the degree of aptitude and power one has, one could also say that I was extremely unlucky. 

Most individuals who aspire to be adventurers usually have a strong innate disposition to one of the three abilities—about, say, half of them were that way. Someone like me, who was neither here nor there, was very much a rare oddity. In fact, people like me would have probably just chosen a normal, non-combative job, and would live their entire lives out that way in relative peace. I, too, should have done that; at least, that’s what I would say in hindsight. 

One thing prevented me from doing as I should have, though: the fact that I had a great dream. 

From a young age, I had chased it, and have continued to do so—to become a Mithril-class adventurer. There was no way I could give up after all this time. 

But as a result of my great dream, I appeared to have ended up as a skeleton of sorts. While nothing much could be said about that right now, I still didn’t feel like I should give up. Regardless of my current appearance, I was apparently not completely dead. While I had no idea why I was still alive to begin with, I felt like I was on the luckier end of things, given that my body still moved. 

It is said that humans will find a way as long as they have life. They are able to achieve great feats precisely because they live. It was with that thought in mind that I continued to live on. 

Come to think of it, being a skeleton wasn’t entirely a bad thing. Although it was a huge problem in and of itself, in addition to not knowing if I was truly alive, I could move, and thus was not entirely helpless. There was nothing inherently wrong with thinking that I could continue to work hard from now on, even in my current form. 

Just to be sure, I gave the abilities I had when I was “alive” some short test runs. Mana, spirit, and divinity all seemed functional, having apparently followed me into the afterlife. I felt like I had more than enough to go on with these advantages. At the very least, I could say that I had quite the leg up from a typical skeleton monster of this level, who definitely would not have any of said abilities. I could probably fight with this—it was more than enough. 

It’s also worth noting that while my aspirations to evolve into a ghoul sounded alarming, I had no intentions of eating human flesh. I was doing so just to obtain a more human form. Either way, I did not recall ghouls requiring human flesh for sustenance. If I were compelled to do so by instinct or some other reasons, I would cross that bridge when I came to it. 

Perhaps I would do it in secret, or at least find some way to sate my hunger; for now though, that was not worth thinking about. More importantly, it was vital to verify the extent of my strength in combat and to continue my task of evolving into a ghoul. 

To achieve that, I had to defeat the denizens—more accurately, monsters—of the dungeon I was currently in. Justifying my actions in doing so was simple: Existential Evolution was only triggered by monsters gaining more experience and strength with time—at least, that was how the typical explanation on the matter went. 

The best textbook example of this would, ironically, be a dragon. Dragons, born as juveniles and eventually maturing over the years into an Ancient dragon, were a good illustration. However, dragons were monsters with a high amount of latent ability and power in the first place. Compared to dragons, skeletons simply remained skeletons, regardless of how much time had passed. 

Undead monsters were very much dead after all. Even if they were to spend thousands of years standing in place, they would simply just exist. Accounts of undead monsters becoming stronger simply by standing in place were virtually unheard of. The logic behind this was simple: bones were bones. A pile of dead bones did not grow. 

I once again found myself at a loss, but not for long. I had to gain experience; I had to fight. 

It was said that monsters absorb the life force of other monsters should they fall in combat. This definitely held true, both for humans and monsters, with the core difference of humans remaining human regardless of how much strength they absorbed from fallen monsters. While there were many strong, seasoned fighters and adventurers, they were still human on the inside. 

Monsters, however, differed from humans in this aspect—after obtaining a certain amount of experience and absorbed strength, the typical monster evolves into a stronger form via the phenomenon of Existential Evolution. Based on that, it would seem like my path had already been laid out for me. 

Of course, the problem of whether or not I was really a monster to begin with still remained; even so, I would be able to find out easily via trial by combat. I viewed it as a prerequisite that had to be carried out before evolution. 

As such, my first task was to locate and defeat a nearby monster. 

As for monsters that even a simple skeleton could defeat... Slimes, goblins, and other skeletons came to mind. Thankfully, they could all be found within this very dungeon. Although I was currently in an unexplored section of the Water Moon Dungeon, I did recall seeing a number of monsters on the way here. 

There were multiple theories as to why monsters existed in dungeons in the first place. All those theories, however, seemed to agree on the fact that monsters reappeared after a set amount of time once slain. The phenomenon, colloquially referred to as “re-popping,” would see monsters resurrect themselves at any time, within 30 minutes, or days, or sometimes years. Weak monsters in dungeons, in particular, were observed to reappear within approximately one hour. 

While I could not precisely determine how much time had passed since I had been eaten by the dragon, I was sure the time required for said monsters to reappear had long passed. My death, after all, did not feel like a mere five- to ten-minute affair. Though it seemed silly thinking that my biological clock would make any sense, given that I was currently a dry pile of bones, all I had to do was wait around should my estimate of time be off. 

With that in mind, I set off back toward the way I came in, having deemed this the fastest way to encounter another monster. Lifting my bony feet, I began to walk, returning to the worn path with a series of heavy steps. 

Upon actually trying to move, however, I discovered that my body was painfully heavy—I supposed that I could not fight like I was able to in life. However, the fact that I could move somehow filled my heart with relief. 

Although I was currently the weakest in the overall monster hierarchy, I was still considerably faster and stronger than an average human. I could only hope that it would somehow work out, but that could have simply been baseless optimism on my part. 

As for my weapons, I found myself still equipped with my well-worn one-handed sword and armor from my previous life, so there appeared to be no problems in the equipment department. All other aspects of my combat potential, however, would have to be tested in the field. 

It did not take long for me to cross paths with another monster, only about, say, five minutes after I had set off on my quest. My opponent, for better or worse, was just like me, albeit without any kind of weapons or armor—another skeleton. 

And so it came to be that I stood facing my adversary in the dark passageways of Moon’s Reflection. My opponent was a skeleton, just like me. A pale pile of bones, held together by the bare minimum of life force required for it to move about. It was unable to use magic, did not possess a shred of spirit, and was hardly able to channel divinity of any sort. It was, in all senses of the word, a normal skeleton. 

As I readied my sword, the opposing skeleton stared in my direction, as if affirming my presence. 

Clack clack clack! 

Its bones clashed together, releasing a dreadful sound. If I didn’t know any better, I would think it was laughing at me. 

Skeletons— 

I’d fought them many, many times in my career as an adventurer. But now, I found myself freshly revolted by their existence, perhaps due to my newfound perspective. 

Once a living thing became a pile of bones, it would definitely never stand again. However, the skeleton before me could move in spite of that, as a continued defiance of the divine laws of life and death. The more I looked at it, the more I felt that its existence in and of itself was a mockery of nature. 

It occurred to me that I was probably viewed the same way by other human beings. No matter how I spun it, it seemed impossible for me to return to Maalt as I currently was. Once again reminded of that fact, I couldn’t help but sigh. Although, I didn’t have any organs for breathing, let alone lungs. Having become nothing but bones, I suppose this much was obvious. 

I felt a fresh wave of shock wash over me at this revelation—the fact that I was now something completely inhuman was driven deep into my mind. There was not much I could do about it, though. That was just how things were now. 

Although I felt I had already digested the facts of my newfound state as a skeleton, it would seem that many other things about this development still bothered me. If anything, I felt more hesitant than ever. 

Despite that, I had no choice but to press on. I had to defeat this other skeleton before me and evolve into a ghoul at all costs! With that in mind, I put my backbone into the task, making a running start towards the opposing skeleton— 

At least, that was what I had wanted to do. The speed at which I was advancing toward the other skeleton was, for lack of a better word, painfully slow. I suppose one could define it as a sort of run; a jog, maybe. However, the speed at which I was moving left much to be desired—it did not seem like a pace suited for combat. At the very least, I was faster than an average member of Maalt’s townsfolk. But I was still decidedly slower than the common adventurer, even the lowest-ranked Iron adventurers. 

It would seem that my physical abilities had also been adversely affected by my untimely death. It was obvious, perhaps, if one thought about it. A skeleton was nothing more than a walking pile of bones. As all living things needed muscles of some sort to move, it was a miracle that skeletons could move at all—and a given that they did not move particularly well. 

As if to prove my point, the opposing skeleton’s speed was also achingly slow. Thinking back on it, all the skeletons I had met up to this point moved in a similar fashion. If anything, it could be said that their sluggishness made them the perfect prey for Bronze-class adventurers such as myself. It was possibly thanks to them that I had continued existing as an adventurer for this long. But even if skeletons were easy prey for Bronze-class adventurers, I was currently a skeleton, as well. It was surely not going to be an easy fight; this much I realized the moment I raised my sword. 

Although it was obvious that my swordplay would be a lot slower than it was in life, it was not as if I had suddenly forgotten how to swing my weapon. At the very least, I firmly recalled the basics. It was with that knowledge that I came to a simple conclusion: the only quick attack I had in my repertoire at this point in time was a simple downward swing. Just to be sure, I decided to test my theory. The results, however, were extremely disheartening. 

For one thing, it was difficult to lift my sword. This was most likely due to the changes in my musculature, or lack thereof. Even so, I was greeted with more difficulties as I tried my best to lift my weapon. The combined weight of the sword, along with the force required to reverse the direction it had been traveling in, was considerably straining. 

If my observations rang true, this was all due to a lack of muscles. In other words, all the techniques and movements that I had learned up until now could not be employed in this situation. 

Once again, it occurred to me that this was an obvious fact. After all, the techniques I had learned were used and taught by humans. There wouldn’t have been a single technique or attack that was designed for the physique of a skeleton in mind. 

Even so, I strived to work out a solution. If I simply stopped here and now, I would surely be defeated by the other skeleton and die, again. Perhaps, then, it was quite the stroke of luck that my first opponent was a sluggish and simple skeleton. 

As I was busy testing out potential sword attacks, the opponent had picked up speed and was rushing in my direction—until it promptly slipped. As a result of its unfortunate fall, my opponent’s right leg bone had apparently dislodged itself. The skeleton was now sitting on the ground in a somewhat awkward position, desperately attempting to retrieve and reattach its detached leg. 

I couldn’t help but laugh at the dark comedy of this scenario. At least, I wanted to laugh, but skeletons in general were incapable of producing such a sound. The only sounds a skeleton could make were rattling sounds, and that was about it. Without much of a choice, I decided to emulate the sound that the opposing skeleton had made when it first set eyes on me. A miserable series of clacks was the result of my attempt at laughter. 

As if enraged by my bony laughter, the enemy skeleton jammed its detached bone back into its socket, then stood up and began rushing toward me once more. It seemed like it was serious about attacking me this time. 

I couldn’t see this as a good thing—it most definitely wasn’t. Although skeletons were weak monsters, it had enough speed and power to kill a grown man—minus the typical adventurer, of course. With that being said, even the weakest Iron-class adventurer would take severe damage from such a blow. 

While I was lost in thought, the skeleton’s charge hit me straight on, and we both fell onto the ground. I nervously looked for a way to counterattack, convinced that if I simply sat and did nothing, the other skeleton would surely kill me. But apparently, that was not necessary. 

The reason for that was simple: the other skeleton simply did not attempt to attack. This was perhaps due to a combination of factors, including the fact that the momentum it was moving at, and the specific angle I was holding my sword, had caused my weapon to become firmly embedded in its skull. A truly serendipitous occurrence. 

However, that much wasn’t quite enough—the enemy was an undead monster after all. If anything, the enemy skeleton seemed more irritated by the fact that its field of vision was now blocked by a sword sticking out of one of its eye sockets, as opposed to being bothered by the fact that the sword in question was a sharp, metallic instrument in its skull. It was also far from being dead. 

Judging by everything I had seen thus far, it was fair to assume that skeletons did not possess much in the way of intellect or logic, even though they had a somewhat humanoid form. The skeleton that had attacked me was a good example, as it was thoroughly confused by the current developments, and apparently could not decide what to do. 

Capitalizing on this chance, I quickly grabbed the handle of my blade, placing what force I could onto the weapon. I had thought to simply push the blade through, given that it had been so conveniently impaled into the enemy’s skull. I was, however, reminded of the unfortunate fact that I was an almost-powerless skeleton. After all, bone was a material used to make armor, and it was considerably hard. The enemy’s skull probably wouldn’t shatter with what little strength I had. Even if I tried to put my body into the attack, it would not work, as I did not have much of a body to begin with. 

I found myself at a complete loss. 

I had to somehow channel more power into the blade’s hilt, no matter the cost. If this went on, I would probably be stuck mud-wrestling this skeleton forever. It was greatly undesirable for my first battle to drag on for hundreds of years. 

Drawing my mind back from its hopeless daydream, it occurred to me that I should at least attempt to use one of the abilities I had acquired in life. For all intents and purposes, I was not a normal skeleton, and I should be exploiting that fact to the fullest. 

I had become too caught up in the matter that I was currently a skeleton and had forgotten that I had defeated many skeletons in my previous life. In fact, I used to be able to defeat skeletons with nothing but brute force. I even had mana, spirit, and divinity at my disposal. 

Although normal skeletons were not aware of it, their movements were powered by magic, as well. As a result, skeletons possessed a higher measure of speed and power than the average person, hence its classification as a monster. Since I was no longer human myself, it occurred to me that I should be using my newfound capabilities as a monster as much as possible too. 

Amongst the three abilities available to me, spirit was the one that was the most suitable for an application of brute force—and as such, the most suitable for my current situation. 

Having finally arranged my thoughts, I began to focus, surrounding my body with spirit energy. Amidst considerations that I had last used this ability when I was more than just a pile of bones, I had no idea if it would actually work. But I had to test it out somehow. If it didn’t work, then I would have to rely on simple force. If it did, on the other hand... 

I was known in life for pushing forward even if things seemed grim. It didn’t make sense to simply give up now. 

As I continued to focus, it would seem like my gamble was paying off. With all of my strength, I thrust the sword’s hilt, slowly pushing the weapon through the skeleton’s eye socket and eventually breaking through its skull. But the force of the attack did not seem to stop there—a series of unpleasant crackling sounds spread through the enemy skeleton’s body, and all at once, all the bones in its body broke into a thousand small pieces. 

Like a puppet with its strings cut, what used to be the enemy skeleton collapsed into a shower of bony fragments, scattering across the ground of the dungeon. Up until a few moments ago, those bones had been connected, and had formed the body of a skeleton. But with its head crushed and form compromised, the skeleton seemed to have lost its undead traits, returning once more into a lifeless pile of bones. 

I won. Somehow. 

Although it was a clumsy and thoroughly shameful display of a first battle, all that mattered was my victory. 

While I was not as agile or strong as I was in life, I had managed to use the abilities available to me for a strained victory. Perhaps I didn’t do as badly as I thought. 

With that notion in my head, I leaned back, my mind somehow filled with an ambivalent sense of relief. 

Well, then. While it was all fine and good that I’d defeated a fellow skeleton, would this be a definitive step toward my evolution? 

Searching amidst the shattered bones of my opponent, I picked up what appeared to be a magic crystal. I held it up to myself, as if expecting some sort of change to occur. Unfortunately, however, nothing of the sort happened—at least, I assumed as much. Suddenly, as if to prove me wrong, a stream of light slowly rose from the skeleton’s shattered remains, gradually heading toward my body. 

Is it still alive?! 

Alarmed, I quickly took a combative stance, but the stream of light did not seem hostile in any way. It did, however, ignore my most valiant attempts to dodge it, eventually making its way into my body. Preparing myself for some sort of impact, I half expected the light to hurt me in some way, it did not. Instead, I felt full of strength. 

As I slowly began to absorb the light, I could feel the energy I had expended in the previous fight return to me. Oddly enough, even my reserves of mana, spirit, and divinity all seemed to increase, if only by a sliver. Was this the much-vaunted Existential Evolution that monsters went through? 

Deciding to find out, I conducted a thorough inspection of my body—not that it took very long to do at all. Although I definitely felt stronger, I was still visually a walking pile of bones, not quite yet the ghoul I was hoping to become. If anything, my appearance didn’t actually change in the slightest. 

While the lack of a mirror prevented me from confirming, the visible parts of my body, such as my arms and legs, were still pale white bone. My face probably did not fare any better. In that case... 

Then was this all for naught?! 

That was the first thought that crossed my mind in this moment. 

Thinking about it calmly, I realized that Existential Evolution was probably not something that happened overnight, especially not with the defeat of only one other skeleton. This was also knowledge that was gleaned from my readings of various tomes on monsters—numerous books seemed to reach the same conclusion. 

For instance, if said evolution truly did occur with the simple defeat of a monster by another of the same type, they would then instantly become stronger, more powerful monsters. In turn, they would effectively spread like wildfire and make the world a living hell for the rest of humanity. Although the lands were populated with distinct types of monsters, including those that posed credible threats to humanity, most of them were monsters that could be safely hunted and disposed of. This was how humanity managed to live on in relative peace inside established towns and villages. 

As such, those very same books I had been reading deduced that not many monsters go through Existential Evolution on a regular basis. Simply put, the process was not something that happened easily or quickly. One would possibly need to defeat a great many enemies first, with some having a higher degree of strength, or to live for a certain amount of time before it would even happen. 

In my case, I had just become a monster, and had struggled to defeat another skeleton. Evolution would not be knocking on my door anytime soon—such was a reasonable assumption. If anything, I should be grateful for becoming a little stronger, especially if the surge of strength and slight increase in my abilities were anything to go by. 

While I had trained for days, weeks, and months without much results in life, the instant gratification of my previous battle was much more preferable. With the defeat of a single enemy, I grew a little stronger. 

Relatively speaking, I would find battles easier the more of them I fought—a reasonable deduction, I thought. Of course, there was no guarantee that my battles would result in victory each and every time. I did also get rather lucky for my first fight. 

Well, I suppose it would ultimately come down to me trying my hand at defeating various other monsters in the area. I had to at least try. 

With that thought in mind, I set off on the passageways of the Water Moon Dungeon once more. 

As expected, my hypothesis was correct—I grew a little stronger with each defeated foe. After that initial battle, I encountered and swiftly defeated a number of other skeletons. Each time, that strange light would rise from their body, making its way inside me. 

With each absorbed light, I felt stronger and faster. It was not just a mental illusion of sorts; my movements had become markedly faster and stronger. Even my spirit art attacks had their offensive power increased. While I had struggled to push my blade through the enemy’s skull during my first encounter, I could now send my opponent’s bones flying if I put my backbone into it, crushing them in the process. 

Perhaps the time had come for me to move on to bigger prey, like slimes. I had certainly become strong enough to at least entertain such thoughts. 

Although slimes were somewhat weak, just like basic skeleton monsters were, their indeterminate shapes and jelly-like bodies were qualities to not be underestimated. Due to these traits, physical attacks did not work too well on them, so the easiest way to defeat slimes was to attack them with spells of some sort. 

With that being said, however, it was inaccurate to say that slimes were invulnerable to everything but magic; it was still very much possible to defeat them with physical attacks. 

There were two ways to go about doing this. First, one could crush the slime’s core, which was a crystalline organ in the interior of the slime. If that object were destroyed, the slime would simply dissolve and die, leaving only magic crystals in its wake. But that was much easier said than done. A slime’s core was not stationary, as it often moved around inside its fluid-like body. Certain degrees of technique and finesse were required to damage it with a sword or spear. Such skills were commonly found in adventurers past the middle-Bronze-class level. On that note, I was a lower-Bronze-class adventurer, so I obviously could do nothing of the sort. 

The other method was somewhat messy, as one could simply scatter the gelatinous parts of the jelly around with blunt force impacts, eventually reaching the core before the slime could regenerate, thus destroying it. As this was an extremely simple method, even I was capable of executing it. It did, however, require a certain amount of execution time. 

The gelatinous nature of a slime meant that it could reform even if scattered, starting with the largest piece. In order to prevent that from happening, either a relatively forceful blow, or a series of rapid blows, had to be applied. In my case, I chose a single, powerful spirit art reinforced attack. It was all I had. 

Basically, I was only able to hunt one slime a day in my previous life. I was incredibly weak— 

Well, I was a lower-Bronze-class adventurer after all. To make matters worse, I often traveled alone, as opposed to joining a party with others. 

Slimes were simple monsters that could be easily dispatched even if the sole member of the party had some small degree of magical aptitude. One did not need to be a great mage to take out slimes, as a single fireball or earthen arrow would do the trick. If anything, few adventurers chose to utilize the time-consuming, inefficient method I was now forced to use. 

In exchange, I was able to hunt lower-tier monsters, such as skeletons or goblins, in relatively large numbers. This resulted in respectable earnings for a lower-Bronze-class adventurer such as myself. Though in my current form, I might even give my archnemesis, the slime, a run for its proverbial money. 

Having at last gotten used to my skeletal body, I was able to deliver blows of considerable force, even without utilizing spirit arts. Surely that would be enough to scatter the gelatinous body of a slime. 

It was time to give my new skills a spin. I set off for an area in Moon’s Reflection that was well-known to be inhabited by my archenemy. Although I had already defeated one on my way into the uncharted territories of the dungeon, significant time had passed for a re-pop to occur, according to my assumptions. Of course, it was quite possible that another adventurer could have gotten to the slime before I did. 

After exploring dungeons for such extensive amounts of time, one eventually develops a biological sense of time within its walls, which is handy for keeping track of time when surveying. In highly-populated dungeons, the smell of blood and metal would often fill the air, in addition to vibrations caused by combat that could be felt in the floor and walls. In my case, I had spent most of my time exploring this particular dungeon, and as such, I had a relatively good grasp of its scope of time. Thanks to that, I could even determine which areas of the dungeon would experience high adventurer traffic during specific times of the day. 

As such, I determined that there were no adventurers known to frequent this dungeon around this period of time. This wasn’t the only dungeon around the town of Maalt after all. There was another, bigger one close by, apparently called the New Moon Dungeon. 

Many parts of that dungeon remained unexplored, with multiple areas and floors only partially mapped out. As a result, most adventurers in Maalt headed toward New Moon. Those who had instead opted to frequent Moon’s Reflection were either stubborn or solo adventurers who could not find a party to explore the depths of New Moon. 

For the record, I was of the latter group. Although I had originally wanted to explore the New Moon Dungeon instead, it was populated by a vast number of monsters, including those that attacked adventurers in packs. A lower-Bronze-class adventurer wandering into that dungeon alone would be no better than a death sentence. Barring those times when I had been invited at the last minute to fill a slot in someone else’s party, I greatly preferred hunting in the Water Moon Dungeon instead. 

Thinking back on it, it was a relatively lonely life. 

There were many reasons as to why I adventured alone, but the main reason was simple: no other adventurers wanted to be in a party with me. After all, I had been stuck as a lower-Bronze-class for roughly ten years. Even the most untalented adventurers would rise to middle- or upper-Bronze-class level in that lengthy span of time. 

—That was evidently not the case for me. 

Even so, I was not completely isolated; I was occasionally invited to join other parties. However, as I wanted to become a Mithril-class adventurer of my own ability, the nature of my dream prevented me from joining the parties of other adventurers quite often. In addition, my long stagnation in the adventurer ranks had apparently earned me the name of “The Thousand-year Bronze-class,” and as a result, even the occasional party invitations had eventually dried up. 

It’s a sad tale, so let us leave that be for now. More importantly, I still had to hunt myself a slime. 

Shelving those thoughts, I continued moving forward and was soon greeted by the sight of a slowly-moving, almost transparent monster of jelly. 

—It was unmistakably a slime. 

Drawing my sword, I slowly crept up upon my archnemesis, the very same kind of slime that I had hunted these past ten years. 

It didn’t take long for me to notice that this slime was slightly different from its peers. Its body was clear and transparent—it was obvious that it had reappeared not too long ago. 

A clean slime like this was considerably rare. It’s perhaps worth mentioning that slimes’ hues often became clouded after living for a while, mainly due to eating other monsters or the occasional unfortunate small animal. Trapped in the slime’s gelatinous body, its prey would slowly start to dissolve, resulting in quite the unpleasant sight. Slimes also sucked up corpses and other dead bodies quite frequently, and it was not uncommon to see bones and half-digested remains of monsters suspended in a slime’s body. New adventurers not yet used to the sight of viscera often found themselves throwing up. 

While the sight of dead mice and the like were somewhat tolerable, slimes sometimes absorbed the remains of humanoid monsters such as goblins, or in some cases, even the half-digested corpses of adventurers who had died exploring the dungeon. Most adventurers would lose their appetite for exploration after such a sight, if not their stomach altogether. Of course, those who continued being so easily disgusted did not remain adventurers for long. Though even those that did press on down the adventurer’s path still continued to find half-digested dead bodies disgusting. 

In my case, I felt very little, having continued on as an adventurer for some ten odd years. Common wisdom stated that adventurers needed to steel their guts during their first year. 

Drawing my mind back from yet another train of thought, I once again became aware of the relative clarity of the slime before me. Although I was currently a skeleton, and could be more frightening to the common man in certain situations (more so than a slime in the middle of digesting its meal, at least), my emotions were still very much human. 

I didn’t want anyone to think I derived any sort of pleasure from destroying a corpse-filled slime. But this particular slime was clean, and very much so. The fluid of a freshly spawned slime like this was worth a tidy sum. If one were to somehow collect its fluids with a vessel of sorts, it could be sold to the adventurer’s guild or to an alchemist as an important, rare ingredient. Even the fluids of an impure slime could be boiled and mixed with various medicinal ingredients to create basic healing potions, so it was not a bad ingredient by any means. The fluids of a pure and clean slime, however, had many more uses, and as such could be sold for much larger sums. 

Although I was a skeleton now, the tool belt I had in life was still attached to my waist. In said tool belt was a container I had specifically prepared for this situation, and I quickly decided that this was the course of action I would take after defeating the slime. 

Slowly, and with considerably suspicious movements, I began to approach the slime. As I did so, the slime, as if noticing me, shivered intensely, shooting out what appeared to be a glob of water in my general direction. 

Anticipating its attack, I dodged cleanly to the side. The glob of water promptly hit the ground, instantly beginning to dissolve the earth. It didn’t take long for a small trail of smoke to rise from the unfortunate patch of dirt. 

This was one of the slime’s signature attacks—Acid Blitz. As its name may suggest, the slime produces an acidic substance within its body and shoots it out as a form of ranged projectile attack. Whatever was unfortunate enough to be hit by said attack would then dissolve. 

It was a simple, acid-based attack, and depending on where the victim was hit, it would not deal too much damage. However, if it caught one in, say, the eyes, the unfortunate victim would not escape unscathed. At the very least, one should endeavor to protect one’s face in such an encounter. 

Although I would not lose my vision from a simple acid attack to the face in my current form, the bone structure of my skull would most likely dissolve, in which case I would simply die. So losing one’s eyesight was hardly the problem here. It occurred to me that I had to avoid every single one of the slime’s attacks, just to be safe. 

It’s worth noting that while the slime’s attack was considerably dangerous, the slime itself was markedly slow. A normal slime like this one was not known for moving fast. In addition, its movements were easily predictable; all I had to do was be sufficiently careful. As long as one was alert for the ever-present threat of the fast-moving Acid Blitz projectile, slimes were not fearsome monsters by any means. If anything, the main problem adventurers faced when attempting to defeat a slime was that of their own skill sets and abilities. 

Due to my current state as a skeleton and the absorbed energies of the other skeletons I had defeated, I was stronger than I had ever been. At the very least, I was now capable of movements close to my original speed in life. I would probably not lose to a slime, of all things. 

As I gradually continued to advance, the slime motioned to shoot yet another round of acid in my general direction. This time, however, I was prepared, holding up my sword and boosting my speed with my spirit arts. Sprinting toward the slime, I swung down my sword in a flash, hitting its body and retreating rapidly before it could finish shooting its acid. 

Although I felt something give as I landed my blow, there was no way I had instantly defeated the slime. With that thought in mind, I quickly recovered, once again readying myself for another blow. 

But this time, the slime did something unexpected. Instead of following up with an attack, it simply stopped, quivering in place. All of a sudden, it completely stopped moving before promptly dissolving into a lifeless puddle. 

This was a commonly observed phenomenon when slimes embraced death. With the life force supporting their gelatinous body gone, they returned to a liquid-like state, spreading out limply upon the dungeon’s floor. Simply put, the slime I had hit with my weapon was very much dead. 

I couldn’t help but be shocked at this sudden turn of events. It was beyond comprehension; after all, I had never been able to defeat a slime in just one blow when I still drew breath as a lower-Bronze-class adventurer. Even so, the truth before my eyes was undeniable. 

Due to the nature of my desperate attack, I had not been able to confirm it, but perhaps my weapon had hit the slime’s core by a stroke of luck. I would then be able to fully justify what had just happened. If anything, I should be fully prepared to not be so lucky when encountering my second slime. Caution, in this case, was a great virtue. 

More importantly, there was the matter of the slime’s jelly—the alchemical ingredient I wanted to harvest. If a slime’s fluids were to touch the ground, it would no longer be usable as a clean ingredient, so one would have to be prepared with a container on hand at the opportune time. 

Of course, if one were to attempt to do this to a living slime, the container would simply bounce off its membrane. Fortunately, this membrane was dissolved upon the slime’s death, and it felt very much like stabbing one’s arms into a bucket of jelly. 

Retrieving a container flask from my tool belt, I stuck its nozzle into the body of the dying slime, fully filling it. Although slimes shot out strong acidic fluids in life, such as with Acid Blitz, it was strangely not very acidic at all in death. In fact, adventurers who had a habit of sticking their hands in dead slimes found that their hands often ended up clean and rejuvenated. On that note, I would mention that the bodily fluids of a slime were often used in women’s cosmetics. In fact, clean slime fluid was frequently used for this very purpose, as it apparently had some medicinal properties due to its unique composition. 

While such a rare ingredient could be easily used to create higher tiers of healing potions, most of it ended up being used for cosmetics. It occurred to me that the feminine pursuit of beauty was a seemingly infinite venture. 

Was it so truly necessary to create cosmetics from monster parts...? 

Well, I suppose there was some justification for that—it is said that monster-based ingredients have significant effects on humans. The impacts supposedly range from immortality, to reviving the dead, to even turning an old man young again... Perhaps this was a natural progression in the grand scheme of things. 

Ending my internal monologue, I turned to look at the container which had now been filled up by the rapidly deflating corpse of the slime. Filling it up to the brim, I slid it out slowly from the slime’s dying goop, taking care not to spill any of the precious fluid. 

Good. This will surely sell for a fair amount of gold. 

A fair sum, indeed—perhaps even worth quite a few days of work. 

As I mentioned, clear slimes were worth their weight in gold—almost literally. To even meet such a slime, one would have to wait about an hour for it to appear once more, in addition to not contaminating the slime in combat with fire or earthen spells. In fact, there was no easy way to gather uncontaminated fluid with magic, so that was why the slime had to be defeated with brute force. 

For these reasons, it has been said to be an ingredient that was only gathered by adventurers who had suitable expanses of both stamina and strength. In fact, adventurers who could defeat slimes in a single blow could hope for even greater rewards. For someone like me, however, it would probably take up to half a day to accomplish. 

That being said, I had no means to sell this ingredient, let alone use the funds to pay for any sort of inn or accommodation. From that angle, my endeavors seemed somewhat useless. 

Leaving those thoughts aside, I once again set my mind to evolution—I had to become a ghoul at any cost. 

If I could evolve, I would be able to walk into town, and even sell the rare ingredient I had just collected. As for accommodations... Well, while I wasn’t sure about the opinions of prospective landlords, rental properties shouldn’t be all that difficult to find. 

I also needed to speak with someone about the situation at hand, someone who would not simply run away upon learning that I had become a monster of sorts. With regards to that, however, I had just the person in mind. 

As my thoughts carried on about that person and how I met them, I decided to move on from my current spot and search for my next target. 

It was after defeating the fifth slime that day that I began to become aware of the changes in my body. Although I had sought out and fought many other monsters since then, it would seem like my initial encounter with, and subsequent defeat of, the slime was not a fluke after all. All the slimes I had encountered after the first perished in much the same way. 

My strength was quickly exceeding the point it had been at when I still lived. 

When I was a lower-Bronze-class adventurer, I did not feel any sense of progress no matter how much training I did. In fact, I did not seem to progress in any way at all. But now here I was, becoming stronger in death. I was not quite sure if I should feel happy or sad in regards to this development, although it was greatly preferable to just endlessly stagnating. 

Although I didn’t know where I would plateau at once more should I continue growing at this pace, I set such thoughts out of my mind. Instead, I decided to do what I could at this point in time—I continued to fight. 

After fighting and defeating ten more monsters, I felt a strange feeling well up from deep inside me—an almost foreign feeling that I had not felt up until this point. It was by no means an unpleasant feeling. If anything, it felt more like something was springing up from deep within me. 

However, being as cautious as I ever was, I tried my best to endure and resist it. Ultimately, my efforts were proven futile. 

A slow, crackling sound filled my entire body, the sound progressively getting louder as my body was engulfed in a warm stream of light. 

What’s happening...? 

That was the only thought my mind processed before another inexplicable thing happened right before my eyes; dried-up, shriveled flesh began appearing around the bones of my body. As if to hide the harsh white of my bones, the flesh continued to creep, before surrounding my bones altogether. 

This was very much it—I could feel it. My wishes had been granted— 

This was Existential Evolution. 

This was what was happening right now. 

I continued my internal monologue as the phenomenon continued, slowly spreading to the rest of my body. Brown flesh, dry to the point where I began to doubt if moisture even existed in its veins, started growing and wrapping itself around my arms, legs, and everything else it could find. 

Although I had been a pile of bones up until now, I had finally been blessed with flesh...! 

After a short while, the phenomenon stopped. Just to be sure, I decided to inspect my newfound lack of bony surfaces. 

As expected, flesh was firmly attached to my limbs—limbs that had been stark white sticks of bone up until now. 

However, the flesh in question was a far cry from what I used to look like when I was human. To begin with, it looked like extremely dry, thin sheets of brown stretched over what used to be white bone. In addition, my newfound flesh did not do a very thorough job of hiding my bones at all—bits and pieces of white showed through the canopy of brown. 

I felt like a pile of bones that had meat haphazardly stuck onto them. If I were to surface from the dungeon in this form, wolves, dogs, and the like would surely find me to be a delicious snack. Maybe I would be eaten. 

While my body was this way, my lack of a mirror, once again, caused me to assume that my face was identical. I was familiar with a monster that looked like this, however. Bits of dried meat clinging to bone—none other than a ghoul. 

I was now unmistakably a ghoul, the initial target of my evolutionary goals. 

If memory served, ghouls looked like humans with their skin removed: with some torn flesh still attached to the bone, and with bits of the latter showing through their muscles. They also looked very...dry. 

In other words, I was absolutely disgusting—but of course, there was no way a dried corpse would look appealing. I was an undead monster. It was also obvious that no one would fancy such a form, much less aspire to somehow become similar to it. However, to me this was a huge step forward, if only because there was now flesh on my bones. 

Having experienced Existential Evolution, I was now aware of the fact that I could continue climbing up the proverbial monster hierarchy if I continued working hard. That was a fact worth celebrating. 

Undead monsters, in particular, looked more and more human the higher they climbed up the ladder. For example, if I were to become a vampire, which was an even higher existence than ghouls, I would basically become indistinguishable from a human—in which case I would be able to move around the streets of Maalt without any problems. 

In my current form, the best I could probably manage was a sneak into town—I would still be unable to walk about freely. However, I was familiar with the gate guards of Maalt. If I played my cards well, I may be able to enter and exit as I pleased. 

But of course. Although it was mostly dry meat, I did currently have a body, and as such there was one important thing I wanted to try. 

“...VAAAH... VAAAAH...” 

I valiantly tried to channel air through my throat to see if I could speak. It would seem that generating some kind of sound, at least, was possible. 

“HE... HEEH... VVO... HEH... VO. OOD... MOV... NINV... GGGUH... HEH... VVO...” 

... 

No. This really wouldn’t do. 

Although I found myself able to speak, I was by no means fluent—or very coherent, for that matter. I suppose some practice was in order. 

On the other hand, I did greatly prefer this state compared to that of a skeleton who could not speak and could only make clattering sounds. With this, I would be able to reach a mutual understanding with any human being who entered the dungeon... Or so I hoped. Of course, the prerequisite being that the person I was speaking to did not remain actively terrified of me. 

As I continued to ponder various possibilities, a sharp sound of clashing metal interrupted my thoughts. It sounded like someone was engaged in combat with monsters a considerable distance away, as it was clearly the sound made by a sword impacting a hard surface. 

Like most of the monsters I had defeated thus far, this floor did not feature anything but weak monsters, much less any that would generate a metallic sound. From this fact alone, one could infer that the irregular sound came from an adventurer—there was no other possibility. 

This sound... A living human being was here! My heart skipped a beat at this thought. 

Thus far, I had only lived for a little more than a day in this dungeon. Most of that, however, was spent fighting monsters alone throughout the night. It made sense if one thought about it. 

Up until now, I had always entered dungeons during the day, returning to Maalt in the evenings for food. Before I knew it, however, I had become a skeleton and was unable to see any specks of hope in my future. As such, I had continued slaying monsters inside the dungeon—perhaps it was only natural that I would miss the presence of other humans. 

I wanted to speak with someone, anyone. If an adventurer was present, then so be it. 

I did, however, quickly recover from my excitement. Due to my appearance, attempting to speak with a human would be a somewhat harsh undertaking. Although I was no longer a walking pile of bones, a ghoul was still...a ghoul. If I were to approach an adventurer with this dried-out corpse body of mine, they would clearly be alarmed and promptly ready their swords for combat; a conversation would be the last thing on their mind. 

Although the result of the encounter might be a little different if I were some sort of sentient, intelligent monster species, I was currently a ghoul. My prospects were dim in that regard. As such, I chose to distance myself from the source of the sound and hide, so as not to come into contact with the adventurer in question. 

However, curiosity got the best of me—would I really be able to ignore and move away from a human being when they were so close to me? 

—No. I found myself unable to resist. 

Such was the degree of my isolation and loneliness—I wanted to see a person, no matter what. 

And so I made my choice, creeping up to the source of the sound silently. If I were discovered, I would simply escape. 

I thought peeking from the shadows would likely be acceptable. I would then hide my presence as best as possible, moving forward as quietly as I could. 

As the sounds grew louder, my heartbeat followed in tandem. A little bit more... 

I wasn’t too far now from another human being. Slowly but surely, I arrived at my destination, with the sounds of combat continuing from behind a corner. 

Remaining cautious as I crept up the path, I carefully peeked over the corner, staring beyond into the corridors of the dungeon. There, as I had expected, was another adventurer, sword drawn and engaged in combat with monsters.