Nozomanu Fushi no Boukensha (LN) - Volume 1 - Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Proof of Inhumanity 

Honestly speaking, I found it extremely regrettable that Loris had a family. If he’d said he had no family, on top of having no debt, then it would mean that he had lied to me. If that were the case, then it would’ve actually worked out in my favor—at least, that was what I thought. 

The reason for this being that the primal instinct within me had intensified as of late, and it was telling me to do one thing: 

Eat a human being. 

If I really were to do such a thing...wouldn’t a villain of some sort be best? What about a liar? If someone had lied to me, would that be acceptable...? 

And yet... Loris was, for all intents and purposes, a good-hearted person. That was why I ultimately couldn’t eat him. After all, if I was going to do so, it would’ve been best for me to not know his name. It was indeed a pity—I had even steeled myself for the act to a certain extent. 

Upon noticing that I was having such thoughts, I quickly shook my head, dismissing them. 

This is bad. 

I continued to shake my head violently, attempting to get those thoughts out of my mind. But it was difficult to think otherwise. I felt as if a heavy curtain had been draped over my mind. 

My next destination was Lorraine’s house. 

How does human flesh taste? Is it delicious? Would its taste spread across the tip of my tongue? 

Surely, human blood would be like wine, serving to quench my thirst. 

No... No. That’s wrong. 

That was...not something I should think of. But I couldn’t control my thoughts any longer. 

Yes... Lorraine. Lorraine’s house. Lorraine’s... House... 

The door...opened. Of course. 

Lorraine’s house. I could enter...freely. 

This is my hideout. 

Lorraine...had difficulties, at least living in a normal dormitory. This was why she lived in this house, and it was only possible with my help. 

She had lived here for about ten years. Although it was from so long ago, the memories were fresh, as if the events just occurred yesterday. We were almost like friends who couldn’t get rid of each other. That was how long we had known each...other. 

But more importantly...Lorraine was my friend. 

Lorraine is forgetful; she seldom locks her door, and today, as usual, her door was unlocked. 

No matter how messy she was...it was still a young woman’s house. She was too careless. Too careless. 

But that’s how she is. 

That’s how her character was. She was messy and lived just as messily. 

She did many things in broad strokes and probably treated the security of her house in a similar fashion. Maybe she only acted like this because she was strong. That could have been a large part of the reason. 

No one would simply attack a Silver-class mage out of nowhere, and Lorraine herself was well aware of that. Even if she was faced with the burliest of hooligans, she would not be in too much danger. 

Yes... She knew that. That was why she was careless. 

I am...not a danger to Lorraine. Not yet. 

Lorraine is strong—strong. 

That’s why... That is why. 

Yes... Of course. 

Of course Lorraine would be fine... Even if a flesh-starved ghoul were to enter her house... 

“...Rentt? Is that you? ...You’re back,” a voice greeted me as I entered the house. 

From the sound of rustling clothes, I knew. I knew it was her—her logical but glamorous voice. Sleepy, but not brusque. A gentle, calm voice... 

I answered as I usually would. 

“...Yes. Yes...” 

“I see. You were off exploring in the Moon’s Reflection today, weren’t you? Was the dragon there?” 

“...No. No...” 

Barely keeping up with her banter, I slowly approached Lorraine. As I got closer, I could make out her silhouette—she was sitting on the sofa. 

Lorraine. 

A heavy-looking book was on her lap, but her eyes, her gentle gaze, looked straight at me. 

This strange feeling... 

I was a ghoul after all. I was not human—I was the enemy of humans... 

But then... This woman— 

“Rentt...? Is something wrong? You don’t seem to have much to say... Are you in shock because the dragon wasn’t there?” 

“...No... Nothing... Like. That. I am... Very... Happy...” 

I slowly approached Lorraine, until I was a single step away from her. If I reached out, I could touch her—that was the distance I was at. 

I stared at Lorraine’s face blankly. 

Her hair was messy...as usual. Her robes and clothing...put on haphazardly. But...there was a hidden charm to her... 

Charm...? What charm...? What...was it? 

Lorraine innocently asked me a question: “You’re happy? Why, did something good happen—” 

Before she could finish her sentence, Lorraine was in my arms. In...my arms. 

“R-Rentt...! What are you...? Are you drunk? But wait...the undead can’t get drunk...” 

With a somewhat more flustered voice than usual, Lorraine questioned my actions. Somehow, this only served to bring out even more of her charm. 

Her skin, flushed with a red hue and slightly glistening with sweat, gave off a familiar scent—one that distinctly wafted through the dusty air. Feeling dizzier by the second, I latched onto her scent—and consequently, Lorraine herself, holding her tight as I spoke. 

“Lo... Rraine. I...” 

“Y-yes. What is it, Rentt?” 

I wanted to say something—something important. Those thoughts, however, vanished, almost as if someone had gone over them with a paintbrush. Broad strokes of red stained my field of vision. I could no longer think—chaos filled my mind. The only thing I could sense was Lorraine’s...scent. Her scent seemed... 

...very delicious indeed. 

With that thought, I opened my mouth wide, displacing part of her robe with a free hand to expose her shoulder.

I sank my teeth into her white flesh.

“...?!” 

Lorraine did not scream. Instead, she seemed to swallow deeply, pushing her cry of surprise back down into the depths of her throat. Her body was tense; while she shivered considerably from the pain, not a sound escaped her lips. If she screamed, someone would surely hear her—and then someone would come along to investigate. 

The town of Maalt was, after all, known for its relatively high public safety standards. If anything did happen, the average passerby was sure to intervene. Perhaps it was specifically because of this that Lorraine did as so— 

She endured the pain with all her being. 

Her resistance, however, only seemed to enhance the scent drifting forth from her flesh. I bit down further into her shoulder—and with that, the fresh taste of blood filled my mouth, flowing down into my throat. 

Ah... What a divine taste. 

It was a taste that was foreign to me, as I had tasted nothing like it prior to this. The 20-year-old wine that I had once drank in life greatly paled in comparison—mere swill compared to the delightfully sweet taste of blood. 

I wanted more. 

More, more... 

That one thought filled my mind as I sucked on Lorraine’s open wound, drawing sweet blood from her broken veins. 

“...Ugh... Ahh... Ren...tt. You...” I heard Lorraine call my name, but I did not feel like stopping. 

Another thought crept into my crimson-stained mind: 

If blood tasted this good, what would human flesh taste like...? 

It would certainly be a divine, otherworldly taste. It had to be. 

I bit down hungrily on Lorraine’s shoulder, exerting more force than ever before. 

*Rrrip* 

“...Ahh...?!” 

I had bitten off a piece of Lorraine’s shoulder. There wasn’t much of it; I’d only torn off a small piece, much like the size of one’s little finger. But of course, this taste... It was as I expected. 

I chewed down on the piece, relishing it. I could be forever content with this taste. This was all I needed—such was the intensity of its flavor. But there wasn’t enough of it. To think that a small piece could bring me such joy... 

My joy was unceremoniously interrupted, however. I was thirsty once more—I had no choice but to feel this way. 

I turned to face Lorraine once more. 

“Rentt... Rentt. Are you...still...there?” 

Lorraine, however, stared straight at me—into me—even as blood continued flowing from her lacerated shoulder. 

Ah...? 

Rentt. That was my name. 

Was I still here? That was the meaning of her question. 

But of course I was still here. 

I am here. 

So... Give me. More of your... Blood. 

For a second, I stopped—before lunging at Lorraine once more. Yet Lorraine nodded at my reaction. 

“Seems...like, you’re still...in there somewhere. Good. Then...for now, you should... SLEEP!” Suddenly raising her voice, Lorraine lifted her palm, pointing her hand in my direction. 

Although I could sense the tendrils of magic gathering in her outstretched hand, it was far too late. A magnificent fireball sprung forth, hurtling straight at me. Its force and power was fitting for a Silver-class mage, as the impact sent me flying for a good distance before finally slamming me into a wall. 

Slowly sliding down to the floor, I felt my consciousness slip away, drifting far into the distance. I could make out Lorraine’s silhouette as she approached, in a somewhat haphazard and panicked way. She placed a hand on my cheek. 

“...Good, you’re alive. You can apologize when you wake up...” 

Her tone of voice was markedly different. It was no longer flustered, but instead strict and controlled. I could make out the incantations for a sleeping spell in her words. 

My consciousness seemed to slip at an even faster pace. I heard Lorraine’s words whispered softly into my ear right before I fully slipped away. 

“...You probably won’t remember this, and that’s fine. But if you’re going to attack me... At least do it when you are in full possession of your faculties. You can take a bite of me anytime, then...” 

Perhaps I was just hearing things—but even with my awareness rapidly fading, I could at least make out that much. 

A strange power seemed to course through my body. 

For one reason or another, my body felt very heavy. It was a strange feeling. 

Wait—something was amiss. What had I been doing? I was, after all, in the Moon’s Reflection up until a short while ago. We had left the confines of the dungeon, and visited Loris’s shop. And then...? 

When did I fall asleep? 

Seemingly triggering a reaction in my mind, that thought jolted me wide awake. A bright light of sorts seemed to invade my eyelids, prying them open. 

“...You’re awake, Rentt.” 

What greeted me as I opened my eyes was an oddly familiar sight—the ceiling of Lorraine’s abode. Her voice brought back a stream of memories—a flashback, as one would call it. I slowly recalled the chain of events that led me here. 

Organizing my thoughts on the situation to a certain extent, I finally opened my mouth to speak. 

“Ah... I.... Apologize. My... Head. Does not feel quite... Right.” 

“No, it isn’t much to worry about, though I will accept that apology. More important is how you feel right now. Do you feel...dominated by some strange force? Do you feel compelled to do anything...unusual?” 

I shook my head at Lorraine’s question. I mean, nothing seemed to be particularly out of place. 

There was one thing: the mild scent of blood in the room did pique my appetite, but it was nothing like the crimson-stained state of desire that I had previously been in. 

Moving a hand to her shoulder, Lorraine seemed satisfied by my response. 

“Is...that right? Then that’s fine... Also, I should say again... Don’t let what happened bother you. That was merely an unfortunate accident. With that being said, we should still do something about it... How much do you remember?” 

Lorraine held out her hand, interrupting my rapidly offered apologies. Had it not been for her gesture, I would probably be stuck apologizing for a considerable amount of time. 

Having known Lorraine for this long, she sometimes seemed to understand what I was thinking without me having to put it into words. While slightly bristling at times, I now found myself grateful for her understanding. After all, I could be myself around Lorraine—and that was why I could accept her words for what they were, and not remain hung up about what had transpired. 

Of course, it would be impossible to forget right away, but perhaps it would fade with time. At the very least, I should endeavor to answer Lorraine’s questions for now—specifically, how much I remembered before losing consciousness. 

What exactly did she mean? 

I had lost control of myself while visiting Lorraine; everything before my eyes faded into a deep crimson, and I had struck out at her. After that... Hmm. 

No... It was no good. There were too many strange discrepancies in my memories. It was like a surreal dream—I recalled feeling excitement, as if heavy restraints had been lifted off my being. I did not recall making any logical decisions. 

Lorraine nodded as I continued describing what little I could remember. 

“Yes, yes. Of course. I thought it would be something like that. You behaved quite differently than you normally would. To begin with, this was perhaps to be expected... It wasn’t too surprising, considering all the factors involved. I had it under control, as well. It is fine.” 

Finding myself lying down on Lorraine’s sofa, I asked her for an explanation of the events that had transpired between now and then. Lorraine, who had been seated next to me the whole time, offered a plain response. 

“There isn’t much to talk about. When you got home, you suddenly attacked me, and I sent you flying with a spell. I aimed well, you know? Although that probably wouldn’t have hit you as you normally were...” 

Was that true? Despite her appearances, Lorraine was a skilled individual. Unlike how she was before, she could now easily explore the average dungeon by her lonesome—I didn’t think dodging her magic would be a trivial feat. 

Lorraine continued, as if reading my mind. “Well, maybe that would be the case if I were fully prepared for the situation. I was caught unaware and panicked, you know. Under normal circumstances, I would never approach a monster up close. You know I prefer to attack from afar after observing them from a distance. Since you were that close...even magic was difficult. It was a desperate move to suddenly compress a large amount of magic into a concentrated blow, you see. And, well...it worked, so I have no complaints.” 

Despite her words, Lorraine did seem shaken. Although she appeared calm and analytical about the situation, any normal girl would at least be somewhat unsettled when a close friend suddenly turned on them—violently, at that. But Lorraine hid this as best as she could—perhaps out of concern for my well-being. 

“...I thought I would make sure—do you feel all right? Any problems anywhere? I wanted to tune down the spell’s output, but I don’t really have much experience in that field. It was...too sudden. Do you feel any mortal wounds or the like anywhere...?” 

If anything, I actually felt somewhat better than usual. Lorraine seemed relieved at my conclusion. 

“I see. That’s a relief, then. Even so...you still need your rest. You’ve only just recovered after all. Take it easy for today. I will clean up the room—ack!” 

Lorraine’s room was indeed more of a tragedy than it usually was, with books, furniture, and the like scattered haphazardly across every nook and cranny. Lorraine, however, didn’t look in the state for any cleaning. Standing up, she held her shoulder tightly, her face scrunched up in pain. I wasn’t thickheaded enough not to understand why she was behaving in this way. 

It was the wound I had inflicted upon her. 

I stood up, supporting her body with my arms. 

“...Ugh. Nearly fell over there. Sorry for the trouble, Rentt...” Lorraine quickly attempted to step away, as if eager to stand on her own strength. 

“Show... Your wound. To me...” 

Saying so, I displaced her robe with my hand. A series of bloodstained bandages greeted me, haphazardly and messily applied, with blood soaking through its layers. It wasn’t a pretty sight. It was evident that Lorraine hadn’t done much for herself—this was rudimentary first aid at best. I demanded to know why she hadn’t been to a Sanitarium or a place of healing. 

“If I show them something like this, they would want to know what caused it... Don’t worry about it. I’ll cook up a potion or two later. I do have some in stock, but they are marked for sale to the nearby apothecary...so I’m currently out. Don’t worry... I can make something to take care of a wound like this easily...” 

Apparently that was Lorraine’s justification for wanting to clean up her room first—I stopped her, of course. 

“Let me... Do it.” I was referring to the question of treating Lorraine’s wound. 

While I didn’t know of any healing magics, I had enough divinity within me to help. Loris was a prime example of this point. A wound of that size could be easily handled even without a potion. 

Lorraine, as usual, spoke like she’d already read my thoughts. “But...your body...” 

It would seem like Lorraine was more worried about my health than herself. I was fine, however. More importantly, I had to treat her injury. Even if it could be easily healed with a potion of sorts, an injury like that would surely leave a mark. 

Though even a cheap potion could heal one’s wounds, the resulting treatment would leave blemishes, scars, and the like on one’s skin. As such, female adventurers commonly used expensive potions, specifically to avoid such a problem. Lorraine, however, was never one to be bothered by such things. In fact, she’d only used her own homemade potions for personal healing up until this point. Knowing how she was, she probably wouldn’t put much effort into said potions. This would, in turn, leave her with a scar—or, at the very least, the possibility was there. 

I would be the one responsible for said scar, and I couldn’t live with that. 

With that in mind, I placed a hand on Lorraine’s shoulder, holding her in place. As if resigned to her fate, she sighed, making a face as she accepted the treatment. 

“...It’s the first time I’ve...been healed by divine magic. It’s...very soothing, you know. I feel...so warm.” 

Having never attempted to heal my own wounds before, I had no idea how it would feel. But I was grateful for the fact that it didn’t seem to be a painful process. 

Upon closer inspection, there were clear teeth marks on Lorraine’s shoulder, along with rough marks consistent with a laceration wound. As I thought, a normal potion would definitely leave ugly scars. I had to put my all into it. I focused, concentrating a good amount of divinity into my hand. Slowly, the wound began to fade, her skin mending as it gradually reverted to its previous state. Lorraine’s shoulder was now smooth and pale-white, as it used to be. 

Visually confirming that her wound was gone, Lorraine pressed down upon her shoulder with a free hand, as if to check for injuries beneath the surface. 

“...It doesn’t hurt at all. The usage of divinity for the treatment of wounds, huh... As expected, it really is something else.” After pausing, Lorraine continued, in a softer voice, “...Guess I can’t say I’m damaged goods now, huh.” 

Strangely, Lorraine seemed a little disappointed at the notion. Confused, I looked straight at her, only to have her shake her head slowly. 

“No...it’s...nothin—?” 

There seemed to be something amiss with my face. As if finally finding her words, Lorraine spoke once more. 

“Hey...Rentt. Your mask... Is it coming off...?” Lorraine said, staring at my face incredulously. 

“...Wait. There should be a mirror somewhere in here...” Lorraine said, beginning to fish through the scattered objects in the room. 

For all her quirks and relatively relaxed personality, it would seem that Lorraine did, after all, own a mirror—as most women did. After some digging, she finally found what she was looking for. 

“There we go. Look here... Well, maybe it isn’t falling off, but at least it seems to have changed the way it sits on your face...” 

I, too, was curious, and couldn’t help but stare into the mirror Lorraine held. Reflected therein was my face and my mask, with the latter a little different than usual. 

It wasn’t just about the positioning, however. Upon closer inspection, the entire mask had changed its shape. Although it had originally covered most of my face, it now only covered the upper half, exposing the lower part of my face, mouth and all. 

But that was not the most surprising thing in my reflection. 

“...Skin.” 

Lorraine nodded at my stunned realization. “Ah, yes. I had forgotten to mention it, in light of everything else that had happened... But yes. Rentt—you look different now.” 

With a quick series of checks, I discovered that my appearance had indeed dramatically changed. I did not merely refer to the matter of my mask changing shape— 

Deciding to take off my robes just to be sure, I discovered that there were now patches of what appeared to be healthy skin amidst the usual, dried-out bits. Perhaps it was easier to describe my current state as that of an almost-rotten cadaver; bits of me looked like how I was in life, but the other parts were markedly scarred, dried, and otherwise unpleasant. With this, however, it might be possible to pass off said patches of dried skin as monster-inflicted scars. 

That said, claiming that I had many large scars of this sort might be a little bit of a stretch. Alternatively, I could simply tell them that I was a ghoul, not that that was a good idea in any shape or form. My face didn’t seem to fare much better, with the bottom half of it, not covered by the mask, in a similar state as my body. In fact, it seemed a little more monstrous than my skin was. 

While it did sport some healthy parts, the areas around my mouth were markedly corpse-like and ghoulish. One could make out the distressed state of my gums—but perhaps that was a more skeletal state, to have one’s teeth exposed in such a manner. I had to hide this somehow... Was there anything I could do? 

I concentrated, searching for a solution. 

“...H-hey!” Lorraine raised her voice. 

For some reason or another, the mask had reduced itself into liquid-like material, creeping over my face before solidifying as a full facial mask once more. It was now back to its normal, skull-shaped self. 

What was going on...? 

“...Rentt. I don’t think that mask is ‘just’ cursed. Is there more to it?” Lorraine asked, her eyes now twinkling with a familiar look of curiosity. 

But it was as she said. A mask capable of such behavior was not any normal cursed sheet of metal. Of course, the fact that it was cursed to begin with meant that it wasn’t very normal in the first place. 

Lorraine leaned in, closely inspecting the mask. “...When the shape of your mask changed, were you doing anything different?” 

I described to Lorraine my thoughts at the time, namely how I felt that showing my mouth in public was a bad idea. 

“Hmm. Did it change its appearance due to what you were thinking? A sentient tool of sorts, maybe? How very rare...” 

A sentient tool... 

Sentient tools were rare indeed. It was a term commonly associated with demonic swords and the like. These tools often had a will of their own, and they were said to be able to choose their owners. They were often found in the depths of a dungeon and were said to be impossible to reproduce by modern technologies available to man. One could say that they were rare and famous (or infamous) at the same time. 

I raised the notion to Lorraine. Perhaps my mask was a similar artifact. However, there was also the fact that this mask was purchased by Rina for a few bronze coins. No matter how one spun it, it was a little too cheap for a sentient tool. 

Lorraine offered a response after some thought. “Do take into account that it is cursed. The owner at the time might have simply set such a price to get rid of it quickly. We should also consider if the mask has the ability to control the wearer’s thoughts to a certain extent...” 

A more unsettling response than I was used to. 

While I didn’t have much say in taking it off due to its cursed nature, I couldn’t exactly have it controlling my mind—I was already strange enough of an existence as things were. At the very least, I would like my free will to remain intact. 

With that being said, it didn’t feel like I had been controlled at any point in time since my awakening as a skeleton. While I was overcome with strange impulses at times, I didn’t know if those were the mask’s doing. I had struck out at Lorraine after all. 

But Lorraine seemed more interested in the mask and continued to observe it as I remained silently in thought. 

“...You know... If it can change its shape by merely thinking about it, doesn’t that mean you are already capable of taking it off?” 

Lorraine’s words did make sense. Convinced that it was at least worth a try, I began thinking about taking the mask off. Unfortunately, the mask remained unmoving, and was still very much stuck to my face. 

“Can I try taking it off?” 

“Go... Ahead...” 

As expected, however, the mask was not very receptive to Lorraine’s efforts, seemingly glued to my face. Lorraine wasn’t exactly short on strength, either—although she was probably a little weaker than a soldier or a typical male adventurer, she was an adventurer like them, as well. She should have had more than enough strength to take my mask off—at least, if it were a normal mask. 

In other words, my mask still seemed resolutely stuck to my face, and it was not going anywhere anytime soon. 

“No good. Could you maybe think of changing its shape again?” 

I nodded, picturing a different shape for the mask in my mind’s eye. As if on command, the mask changed, once again only covering the upper half of my face. 

“Could you try any other shapes?” 

While I went on to picture a variety of shapes per Lorraine’s instructions, the mask seemed to only assume three general forms: It either covered my entire face, the top half, or the bottom half. 

Though it could take other, more creative shapes, it would end up returning to one of the three prior-mentioned states in less than a minute. It also seemed capable of changing its design and ornamentation. 

“...So, you can freely shape it, but you cannot take it off. How very strange... Well, it works in your favor, doesn’t it? Your face is still somewhat close to that of an undead, you know,” Lorraine said, apparently satisfied, nodding as she did so. 

As she had stated, my humanity would be called into question if anyone got a good look at the lower half of my face—not that I was human in the first place. My body was unfortunately in a similar state. If I showed them how I looked, the average townsperson would surely question why I was even able to move, if only due to the fact that the blemishes on my skin were not just wounds—some bones were still visible underneath my dried flesh. There was also the question of blood, or lack thereof. My wounds did not bleed. 

Taking all that into consideration, however, I did prefer this form greatly—at least, more than my last one. I was human at a brief, cursory glance. I suppose that was where I currently stood on the scale. 

That wasn’t the only thing that changed, however. 

“...Is. My voice strange?” 

“Oh, yes. It seems a lot smoother now, to the point where I cannot help but see it as a little strange. Maybe I just have to get used to it?” 

“I don’t know... But it does feel easier to speak.” I was very grateful for this. 

The bigger question that filled my mind, however, was what brought about this change in the first place. 

“Did I... Do it? Existential... Evolution?” 

Lorraine nodded in response to my question while I continued to examine myself. “It would seem to be the case. Is it because you have been defeating monsters in the dungeon?” 

I did mention to Lorraine that I was headed to the Water Moon Dungeon, hence her assumption. But I shook my head. 

“I don’t... Know about that. It is true that I did... Fight some monsters. But when I... Had evolved into a ghoul, I evolved immediately after I... Defeated them.” 

“...Comparatively, you only evolved this time after you got home. If we were to pinpoint the differences... Did you evolve after defeating me or...something else along those lines?” 

“You jest. There was no defeating done by me.” 

Although I had attacked Lorraine, she did send me flying into a wall with a well-placed fireball; that seemed to be a definite loss. 

“I suppose. More accurately, it was I who defeated you... But more importantly—oh, yes... You ate my flesh and drank my blood. Perhaps that was the reason?” 

Lorraine’s statement was shocking, to say the least. I widened my eyes in response, but she simply continued her explanation. 

“Think about it. It’s not as outlandish as it seems. If I had to say... Judging by your current appearances, you seem more of a vampire’s thrall than a simple ghoul to me. At the very least, you would be some sort of monster under the command of a vampire... Consequently, that ranks you somewhat lower than a lesser vampire in the monster hierarchy.” 

“A thrall, huh...” 

While vampiric thralls were somewhat powerful monsters, I’d never seen one before in life. According to Lorraine’s explanation, thralls were a sort of underling created by a vampire, and as such could not exist without the latter creating them. It was known that thralls did not seem to reappear in dungeons. The lesser vampires that created them, however, did reappear again some time after being slain. Due to this, one could even say that thralls were a somewhat rare type of monster. 

With that said, however, they were not exactly legendary creatures, as there have been enough confirmed sightings of them in areas where vampires were known to live. But the thralls in those cases were once human, having been turned when bitten by a vampire. As far as my knowledge went, one did not simply become a thrall without the direct actions of a vampiric parent. 

“Yes... The resemblance is there. I have taken a thrall-slaying request before, you see. You look somewhat similar to the ones I saw then—well, you seem to have a little more holes in you than the average thrall... But I’m content to classify that as an individual difference.” 

Lorraine was ultimately a scholar well-versed in the characteristics of monsters. If she said I was a thrall of some sort, and had previously seen similar creatures in person, I had no reason to doubt her claims. 

However, I hadn’t been bitten by a vampire at all, so it was difficult to understand the reasons for my evolution. For one, a ghoul evolving into a thrall was unheard of— 

Thinking so, I raised my concerns to Lorraine. 

“... Can one... Become a thrall just by... Existential Evolution?” 

Lorraine didn’t readily have an answer for me, slowly shaking her head instead. 

“As I have mentioned before, few records exist on the topic of Existential Evolution. It is still being researched across the lands as we speak, so there is no adequate gauge for what is normal and what isn’t. Yours is a special case—at least, I think it’s a special case. There are no precedents available... I cannot give you an easy answer.” 

It was as Lorraine said. Even a monster scholar like herself had no answer for me. It was probably impossible to so easily understand, and it was very much a troubling thing to think about, indeed. 

I held my head, attempting in vain to make sense of the situation. Sensing my despair, Lorraine offered some words of consolation. 

“Well... I wasn’t exactly playing around while you went exploring in the dungeon. I was thinking about quite a few things myself... If you would like my observations up until this point, I could give them to you. How about it?” 

Such was Lorraine’s casual offer—of course, I had no reason to refuse. I, of all people, understood that even a mere hypothesis from Lorraine could be a vastly useful piece of information. 

I wasted no time in communicating my interest to Lorraine. 

“All right, then, I’ll tell you about it. Even if you had refused, I would have simply kept talking either way,” Lorraine said, a smile creeping onto her features. 

“Now... Where should I start? Perhaps it would be easier to understand if I went over all the events that have occurred, starting from the beginning of your evolution. While I was not present to witness it... Rentt—you were a skeleton at first, yes?” 

“Yes... I wanted to show you, but there was no way I could... Return in that form. But no matter... How you put it. I was a... skeleton. It was... Quite surreal. Looking at my own... White bones.” 

Lorraine, momentarily stunned at my recollection of my time as a skeleton, quickly regained her composure. 

“And...from there, you evolved into a ghoul?” 

“Yes. You have seen... Me. As a ghoul... So you know.” 

“Yes, of course... It was quite a strange feeling, to see you like that. Very...interesting. Well, that’s enough of that. More importantly... My observations on your evolution. Don’t you think that you evolving from a skeleton to a ghoul in and of itself is a strange thing?” 

“Hmm...?” I could only cock my head at Lorraine’s sudden question. 

Understanding that I didn’t comprehend the deeper meaning of her question, Lorraine continued her explanation. 

“That is to say... Existential Evolution is the process whereby a monster becomes a stronger version of itself. One could describe it that way—loosely, at least. Perhaps the truth is vastly different, but for now we shall work with this. Are you still with me?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, then... Think about it. Are ghouls stronger versions of skeletons?” 

“Hmm...” I couldn’t help but notice the discrepancy now that Lorraine had pointed it out. 

The books I had read in Lorraine’s abode all mentioned that skeletons evolved into ghouls, and I had accepted that as truth. Up until this point, I hadn’t put much thought into it. Skeletons, however, had quite a few variations, many of them stronger than their basic, unarmed form. In fact, the giant skeleton that I had fought prior to this was a good example. Other notable models included skeleton knights, or the weaker skeleton soldiers. 

If that was the case, if a skeleton really were to undergo Existential Evolution, would it not evolve into a soldier or knight? That, at least, seemed to be the most natural path. But of course, one couldn’t be sure if monster evolution was a natural thing in the first place, but I suppose that was a thought experiment for another day. 

Once again, I offered my thoughts on the matter to Lorraine, who promptly nodded. 

“Yes, it is as you say. While it is true that many research tomes and the like speak of skeletons evolving into ghouls, that is not an absolute truth—in fact, someone has probably witnessed this happening at some point in time. However, one could not be sure if that was indeed a sort of Existential Evolution or not—much less if it was an exception of some kind.” 

“What... Do you mean?” 

“...I mean to say that, in truth, we know very little—if anything—on the topic.” 

I felt that Lorraine’s opinion was a little harsh, but she simply continued on. 

“...However. Seeing how you did evolve into a ghoul from your previously skeletal state, I suppose this proves my hypothesis correct.” 

“So... What does that... Mean?” 

“Put simply: I propose that a monster’s Existential Evolution propels it in the direction of what it wants to become.” 

Maybe there was some truth in Lorraine’s words. To begin with, I had fixated myself upon evolving into a ghoul the moment I realized I’d been reborn as a skeleton. The same was true when I was a ghoul; I had wanted to evolve into a vampire so as to achieve a more human-like form. Perhaps Lorraine’s hypothesis was right. 

Although, some questions did remain in my mind. 

“...Why did I... Evolve into a thrall... From a ghoul? I could have... Become a vampire instead.” 

That was my goal to begin with after all. If what Lorraine said was indeed true, I would have become a vampire by now. But Lorraine seemed prepared for my question, and readily offered a response. 

“Think of it as the Adventurer Ranks of the guild. Even if you are skilled as an adventurer, you don’t suddenly advance to Gold-class from the bottom, do you? In addition, you wouldn’t even be able to advance if you did not have the capability to do so.” 

I understood the gist of Lorraine’s words. “...So I have to evolve... Step by... Step?” 

“That would be the most logical conclusion if we were to look at your current appearance. It is, again, just a hypothesis; the sample size is far too small. If I had to quote some sort of supporting evidence or material... My recent research on the evolutionary tendencies of Puchi Suri would suffice.” 

Puchi Suri were small, mouse-like monsters that could be found just about anywhere and were just as easily captured. Elemental subspecies and evolutionary versions could be easily found as well, commonly corresponding to the location they lived in. It would seem like Lorraine had carried out some sort of research in this field. 

Lorraine continued her explanation. “It is a simple experiment—one captures some Puchi Suris, then places a few of them in cages at various locales. A volcanic area, near the water, in a forest, a cave, and so on. The results are interesting, to say the least.” 

According to Lorraine’s explanation, each of the Puchi Suris had taken on the element of their surroundings, with the one placed at the volcano becoming a fire-element subspecies. The same had occurred with each of the other specimens at their locales. In addition, there was only one Puchi Suri left in each of the cages by the end of the experiment. I was, of course, familiar with the reason for this being the case—if I had to take a guess, it was probably due to the Puchi Suris fighting each other, with a final winner absorbing all its compatriot’s power. 

The result of this was Existential Evolution. 

“Of course, this alone does not prove my assumptions. One could claim that the Puchi Suri was simply responding to changes in its environment—but what if this was not a passive, but a directed evolution? What if the monster itself wanted to evolve into a certain form? Perhaps I am getting ahead of myself... But I wouldn’t rule that out after observing a case such as yours. After all, claiming that you evolved into a ghoul in response to environmental stimuli in the Water Moon Dungeon would be a bit of a stretch. There were plenty of other forms you could have taken. 

“In your case...the latter explanation is more convincing: that you took this form because you wanted to. You yourself told me that you had consciously wished to evolve into ghoul. So you see, there is some weight behind this hypothesis; though I wouldn’t call it a concrete theory just yet.” 

“...So... Does it mean that for... Me to become a vampire... I just have to keep... Thinking? Working hard...?” I posed my question to Lorraine. 

If Lorraine’s explanation did indeed hold true, that would mean that me thinking of becoming a vampire while absorbing the life energies of other monsters would be enough to trigger the evolutionary process. 

Lorraine, however, shook her head—not the reaction I was expecting. 

“I did say earlier that it was not a concrete theory... In some aspects, your assumptions are sound; but I suspect that thought alone is insufficient.” 

“...What do you mean...?” 

“Here is the problematic point of this entire series of assumptions. If you could simply trigger Existential Evolution by slaying monsters, would you not have evolved in the dungeon?” 

Lorraine had a point. If Existential Evolution was simply triggered by absorbing the life energies of fallen monsters, I would have been pushed over the evolutionary threshold the moment I had defeated the giant skeleton. Such was the amount of energy it had granted me. Though, I couldn’t deny that perhaps I was still lacking in energy after that battle. In any case, I did return to Maalt without incident. 

On the way back, however, I defeated several monsters—if I was lacking in energy alone, surely that would have taken care of things. In reality, nothing happened until my scuffle with Lorraine, where apparently I had evolved while unconscious. From these observations alone, even I could understand that simply defeating monsters was insufficient for me to evolve. 

In other words, what Lorraine said earlier made a fair amount of sense. 

“Maybe, then... Me eating your... Flesh and blood was... The reason.” 

“Indeed. I did come to that conclusion after some thought—there were no other variables in the equation. While the finer details of the process are lost to me, I can confidently say that certain instances of Existential Evolution are triggered by specific conditions. Empirical evidence in this case suggests that you cannot evolve by only defeating monsters—and this has been observed to be the case thus far.” 

Apparently this was the reason why I couldn’t evolve into a vampire—at least, not just by defeating monsters alone. The thought of me evolving due to the consumption of Lorraine’s flesh and blood, however... 

I raised my doubts to Lorraine. 

“That is the difficult part—difficult to verify, that is. Thralls are technically vampires of sorts... Low-ranked vampires, but still vampires nonetheless. It is said that vampires absorb their opponent’s mana and spirit by drinking their blood. While a vampire wouldn’t die if it does not drink, it would be significantly weakened. Thralls are similar in that aspect. Basically... They gain strength from drinking the blood of humans.” 

“What about... Flesh?” 

“That would be more of a ghoul’s impulse. You had lost control of yourself by then—it was through the strength of that desire that you went and did as such. Did you not feel anything like that while you were a ghoul? A primal desire of sorts, perhaps?” 

I did recall casually thinking about eating human flesh several times during my ghoulish tenure. But I would consciously remind myself that such a thing was forbidden, so the desire itself was easily suppressed at first. The desire did eventually grow, however, intensifying while I defeated numerous other monsters. 

Now that I mention it, by the time I’d encountered Loris the restauranteur, my ghoulish desire was at its peak. Such was the strength of this desire that I had trouble suppressing it after my battle with the giant skeleton. 

Lorraine nodded at my explanation. “Monsters do require some sort of sustenance—a means of absorbing energy, if you will. If a monster doesn’t eat, its base desires probably become stronger in response to its hunger. This was why you bit off a piece of me when you got here. Your desires had amplified and peaked to an irreversible point, and the resultant fulfillment of said desire triggered your evolution. It just so happened that eating human flesh coincidentally caused you to evolve. While I have no way of knowing if all monsters have desires that fuel their evolution, I suppose I could make some broad strokes and assume that is the case. 

“As such, you should not just be defeating monsters. Instead, you should be thinking hard about what possibly triggers your evolution, and then acting on it—at least, that is what I think.” 

Such was Lorraine’s answer. But her instructions were vague at best. 

“...There isn’t much we can do about things as they are, you know. There are things even I do not know; what we discussed just now is nothing more than a series of assumptions—and depending on who you ask, delirious ravings. Ah... If only I had more samples. If that were the case, we would have a much better means of gathering data...” 

To wish for more beings such as myself—I did not have the heart to tell Lorraine that such a day would perhaps never come. 

Even if they were mere ravings, Lorraine’s observations had given me more than enough food for thought. I would not have reached such conclusions myself; or, more accurately, I had never thought about things that deeply to begin with. Without her advice, I would have simply continued defeating monsters. She was truly a friend worth having—a wise scholar who I had the privilege of knowing for a long time. 

“Well, with all that said, perhaps the only choice you have is to trudge forward. You may very well be the first in the history of all humanity to be walking such a path. Of course, I will do what I can to support you.” 

Now, more than ever, I felt thankful for Lorraine’s presence. 

“...Thank you, Lorraine.” 

“Don’t worry about it... Well, then. Now is as a good time as ever—come over here so I can inspect you thoroughly.” 

“Eh?” 

I couldn’t help but feel that Lorraine’s sudden comment was unfitting for the solemn atmosphere that was present mere moments ago. But Lorraine didn’t seem aware of this. 

“Well? What are you doing? Take off your clothes, quickly now. I just happen to have a Recording Crystal here... We should take a picture of how you appear now for archival purposes—oh, right. Are you capable of eating now? Well, you did eat a bit of me as a ghoul, so I suppose you do have a stomach of some sort. But you should try eating normal food, as well. Oh, and you would do well to give me a piece of your body. I will apply some anesthetic to numb the pain. Actually... Do numbing medicines work on you? I should remember to make some research notes on that. Also...” 

Lorraine continued listing a series of possible experiments—she apparently intended to perform each and every one of them on me. 

I, however, was not exactly listening to Lorraine’s ramblings. While Lorraine was normally calm and level-headed, she had a bad habit of diving into her research once she decided that something was of interest to her. As a result, she would commonly work late into the night, forgetting to eat or rest, and would eventually collapse at some point or another. 

However, I was there to take care of her every time something like this happened. Even if I were to guide her to her bed and tell her to rest, Lorraine would only grudgingly agree, all the while being visibly irritated that her work had been disrupted. Her bad habits were responsible for her current behavior. 

Upon listening to Lorraine’s suggestions, however, it would seem like the experiments she described were all crucial to understanding my condition, hence my eventual cooperation. For instance, her experiments with medicine allowed me to understand if medicines even worked on me—handy when exploring a dungeon. Similarly, her request for me to eat normal food was not too outlandish either—if I could eat, I probably should. If I were to collapse suddenly due to hunger or not having sufficient nutrients, it would not benefit anyone—as such, I should eat and rest if able. 

There was also the consideration that someone could attack me out of nowhere, so it was good to be prepared. 

That being said, I did enjoy eating in life. If possible, I would like to continue eating. While I did take a bite of Lorraine after evolving from a skeleton to a ghoul, I hadn’t eaten anything else in the meantime. I had no idea if abstaining from meals would have any ill-effects. If anything, I was somewhat doubtful about my ability to digest food. I supposed it was at least worth a try. 

“Well, then, Rentt. No point sitting around. Let us begin the experiment right away... At least, that is what I would have liked to say, but I suppose that is a bit too much for today. You should rest, and we can continue tomorrow... What is it? There’s a strange look on your face.” 

I couldn’t believe that Lorraine, with that level of eagerness, would allow for her experiments to be postponed to the next day. 

“...No... I simply thought you would... Begin right away.” 

“What do you take me for? Even I occasionally have some modicum of sense.” 

It was something that I had never expected from Lorraine. Her being that concerned was occasional indeed—I thought about pointing it out, but ultimately decided against it for today. 

The next day— 

Upon confirming that I’d regained some degree of normalcy, Lorraine decided to continue her experiments. She began with an external inspection, during which she occasionally went into great detail. Some of her experiments made no sense to me, but they seemed important for one reason or another. I suppose most scholars were like this, being mostly restless until they could fully investigate something. 

With that being said, I did not view all of Lorraine’s experiments as frivolous. In fact, the results of some of these experiments cleared up various questions I had about myself up until this point, and for that, I was grateful. 

The salient points of the investigative experiments were as follows: I could apparently eat normal food, and curative potions, for some reason, also worked on an undead like me. In addition, certain points were completely nullified by the unique nature of my body. The biggest takeaway from Lorraine’s experiments, however, was the fact that I could eat normal food, as opposed to being restricted to human flesh and blood. 

Honestly speaking, though, the desire to consume such things still haunted me even after I had evolved into a thrall. I suppose the desire for flesh was a ghoulish impulse after all. My desire for blood was now far stronger, and I found myself desiring it more than ever. More accurately speaking, I seemed to be able to smell blood in the veins of humans around me. From the smell alone, I could discern the general direction, age, gender, and state of health of human beings around me. 

Perhaps this was to be expected, with the unexpected part being the fact that it smelled so delicious to me. In particular, I found myself lusting after the blood of healthy young women. 

I couldn’t help but think of the negative implications of this development. It would be problematic if I felt this lust all the time—as such, we ended up conducting experiments on how to reduce its intensity. The results were somewhat promising, as consuming regular food seemed to reduce its hold over me. 

In addition to that, Lorraine was generous enough to provide small amounts of her blood, and that usually had a profound effect on my craving, dispelling it for some period of time. The contrast between the two sources was surprising, however—I had to eat at least three times as much as an average grown man to sate my hunger. A single drop of Lorraine’s blood, in comparison, immediately made me feel full and revitalized. Although it would be more cost-efficient to drink Lorraine’s blood in this scenario, I couldn’t bring myself to ask her for a constant supply. Lorraine, however, interrupted my thoughts with a few statements of her own. 

“...Looking at the results of the experiment, it would make more sense if you drank fixed amounts of my blood at regular intervals. For now, I will leave you with a bottle’s worth of it. The bottle has preservation magic woven into it—in any case, if you run out, just let me know,” Lorraine said, casually handing over the bottle to me. 

I felt that a whole bottle’s worth of blood was a bit much; but as Lorraine said, I only required a single drop at a time. 

Thinking about it logically, this bottle would last me for at least a month if properly rationed. The problem, however, lay in the effectiveness of the preservation spell. According to Lorraine, it would only last a week, whereupon I would have to ask her to refresh it once more. 

Taking into account that preservation magics were not absolute in what they did, Lorraine’s provided supply couldn’t exactly be kept fresh forever. It was perhaps serendipitous, then, that the average preservation period of foodstuffs and the like was about a month in length—just the right amount in this case. 

But with that said, there was another problem in regards to this arrangement: it was unhealthy for Lorraine to provide this amount of blood on a regular basis. I made a mental note to be cautious about rationing my blood supply. 

On that note, however, it was undeniably strange for one to be thinking of drinking another’s blood, let alone drinking it cautiously. At the very least, it was not something the average human being would do, and my head hurt as I thought about the implications of such an act for my already thinning sense of humanity. I suppose it was important to ensure that my fading sense of humanity did not deteriorate any further—eating regular meals helped in that regard, at least. 

Lorraine’s experiments also explored my resistances to poison, with her administering increasingly more venomous poisons into me. Interestingly, I didn’t seem affected by any of her concoctions. We progressed in a somewhat haphazard way, armed only with the knowledge of Lorraine’s poison cleansing spells should something go wrong. As a last resort, I could even use my divinity to nullify any detrimental effects. Thankfully, however, we managed to finish our experiments without having to resort to either of those means. 

With that, Lorraine declared I was probably immune to most types of poisons. 

“...Perhaps poisons just don’t work on dead bodies very well?” 

Lorraine’s guess was as good as mine; if she had no idea, I wouldn’t know any better. But if that really were the case, curative potions of any kind shouldn’t work either since my body was dead. 

Regardless, I suppose it was fine to go along with Lorraine’s deductions regarding my resistance to poisons. After all, reports of certain humans being resistant to poisons were not exactly unheard of. In that regard, I, too, was not as abnormal as I seemed to be. Given the nature of the rest of my body, however, that declaration might be a bit of a stretch. 

Lorraine turned to me, all her experiments finally finished. “Well, then. I’m going to take some time to process all the data we have retrieved from our experiments. As for you... Well. I guess I don’t have to tell you what to do.” 

Indeed, it was as Lorraine said. I had already decided upon what I had to do next—namely, to somehow attempt an evolution into a form that looked vaguely human. 

If possible, I would like to become human again. If Existential Evolution did indeed steer an individual towards its desired form, would this not be possible for my case? 

I did not hold the answers I sought. Lorraine, for her part, didn’t have a concrete answer for me, either. 

“There is no way I could know for certain, but of course that would be the case. I cannot discount the possibility of it, however. Why not simply set that as a mental goal for now?” 

A fine answer indeed—as expected of Lorraine. I supposed I should follow her advice and do exactly that. 

I decided upon a new mental goal—it would be a good interim goal, at least. In order for me to fulfill that goal, more dungeon exploration was necessary. 

“...Do you think... This sword can still... Be used?” Saying so, I pulled the sword Clope had loaned me from its sheath. 

“That’s quite some wear you’ve got on the blade... You should know better than I do that it would not serve you well, if at all, in its current state. Repairs would definitely be required.” 

“I... Thought as much...” 

The sword’s condition had apparently deteriorated dramatically at some point during my previous adventure, despite having just been loaned to me. Clope would, without a doubt, be very upset. 

Either way, I couldn’t continue using it as it was. It would be too dangerous to fight with a damaged weapon. 

Steeling myself for a scolding of sorts, I made my way to the Three-Pronged Harpoon. 

“...Hey, now... What the hell is this?” 

Clope, my trusted blacksmith, didn’t bother hiding the distaste on his face. His expression was now twisted into that of an uncomfortable grimace. 

“...The... Sword. You loaned me.” I offered Clope my straight answer. 

Clope’s response was equally simple, albeit accompanied by a sizable sigh. “I can see that by looking at it... You know that ain’t what I’m asking, right?” 

I suppose it would be pointless to continue hiding the truth from Clope, and hence I decided to honestly tell him what had transpired. 

“My apologies... I... Infused the blade... With divinity...” 

“Huh? Now why would you go and do something like—well, I guess I can accept that. But you’ve only been to the Moon’s Reflection, right? There shouldn’t be any monsters there that require a divine blade to defeat!” 

Clope had most likely made this statement due to his knowledge of me being able to use both spirit and magic. In other words, Clope knew full well that most, if not all, monsters in the Moon’s Reflection could be defeated by either of those two abilities. 

Of course, Clope was not wrong in his observations. Reality, however, was a little different. 

“...I ran into a... giant... skeleton. That was why... I did so. I had... No choice.” 

Clope opened his eyes wide at my statement. “You pulling my leg? giant skeletons don’t appear in the Moon’s Reflection, no? But...you wouldn’t lie to me, huh. Where did you even find something like that...?” 

“I found... A previously uncharted... Part of the dungeon...” 

“What?! You— Oi. You’re...serious?” 

Although visibly surprised, Clope made sure to lower the volume of his voice. It seemed like he understood the weight of the information he was just made privy to. 

“...You really...saw something like that?” 

I nodded silently. 

“...Well. Makes a bit of sense as to why you came here dressed up all strange like that... So something like that happened, huh. I can buy that, I suppose. Explains why the sword’s all messed up like this... Well, that’s fine—I get it. Are you done with your exploration yet?” 

Choosing not to respond to most of Clope’s statement, I instead answered the question he had posed to me. 

“No... Not yet. That is why... I was hoping. That my sword would... Be ready soon.” 

“Yeah... I get that. But see here: there’s no way I can get your sword done that quickly. It’s an order-made piece, you know. Instead, I’ll hand over another loaner—one that’s a little better, this time.” 

I had made this trip hoping that Clope had somehow already finished my order, but I supposed he needed a little more time. 

Nodding, I gratefully received the sword Luka, Clope’s wife, had chosen and handed to me. It was apparently capable of handling fair amounts of spirit and magic, just like its unfortunate predecessor. Satisfied, I exited the store. 

Thump! 

Upon leaving the shop’s doors behind, I felt a blunt impact square on my head. More precisely, the impact was absorbed by my mask. Regardless, it would seem like I had bumped into something. 

But of course, something like this was not enough to dislodge or even damage my mask. It was sturdy to the point of annoyance, being impossible to take off to begin with. Taking a good look at the space before me, I realized that I had bumped into a man. Specifically, he was a man clad in silver-white armor; one would almost instinctively say that he was a knight of sorts. 

While I didn’t hold any grudges against the knight in question, his appearances suggested a somewhat rigid, if not righteous, upbringing. If anything, he looked intimidating in his own way, so I decided to depart from the area as soon as possible. As such, I lowered my head, not saying a word as I continued on my way. 

“Ah, my apologies. Are you injured?” 

Now that the knight had spoken to me, I had no choice but to respond. 

“...Ahh, no. I am fine. What about... You?” 

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m quite all right. On another note...from your appearances, good sir, would you happen to be an adventurer of some sort?” 

I once again had no choice but to answer the knight due to his sudden changing of subjects. I nodded as I offered my response. 

Upon hearing that I was an adventurer, the knight looked at me with a serious expression. 

“Well, then...I would like to ask—I am looking for an adventurer in this town: a young girl, with blonde hair and eyes of sapphire... She goes by the name of Rina. Have you perhaps heard of her?” 

Of course I remembered that name. Rina was none other than the adventurer who had originally helped me when I was stuck in the Moon’s Reflection. 

I couldn’t help but wonder what Rina was up to now. Ever since then, I had taken great care to not stand out while I was walking around the streets of Maalt, and I hadn’t run into Rina up to this point. As such, I had no information on her current whereabouts, either. Did she find other adventurers to party up with in the end? Or was she still going at it alone somewhere? With her level of skill, the guild would have no problems recommending her to one party or another... At least, that was what I thought. 

That aside, there was the issue of this armored, knightly man before me. His blond hair, blue eyes, and polished appearance all came together to form the ideal image of a knight from a fairy tale. 

“...Well... To start. Who are you...?” 

I had to ascertain the nature of this person before giving him any information, and the first thing I needed was a name. The knight, seeming surprised for a moment, quickly offered it politely. 

“Oh, of course. I beg your pardon. My name is Idoles Rogue, a knight of the First Knightly Order of the Kingdom of Yaaran.” 

The First Knightly Order was said to be comprised of only the strongest and most elite of knights in the kingdom. The fact that he was from such an Order told me many things: members of the First either hailed from privileged families of power or were talented swordsmen. In any case, members of the First were all important personages in one way or another, as normal people would never be allowed into their ranks. 

And yet, someone like this was searching for Rina? Why was this the case? 

Summarily, I asked after his intent. 

“Why would someone... As important as yourself... Be searching for a young girl...?” 

The man answered my question swiftly and honestly—he didn’t seem to hide anything behind his words. 

“Well... It is most embarrassing indeed, as Rina, the young girl in question, is my little sister. I shall skip the small and embarrassing details, but to summarize, she simply made off and disappeared one day, apparently desiring to become an adventurer for one reason or another. I have arrived in Maalt after receiving eyewitness reports of someone who somewhat resembles her—hence my question.” 

“Then... Does this Rina call herself... ‘Rina Rogue’...?” 

“I would suppose that to be the case. Would you happen to know of anyone by that name? I asked around prior to arriving here, but the guild cited laws on information privacy and wouldn’t tell me a thing. A knight asking around in a tavern would be a strange sight indeed, hence...” 

It would seem like the knight in question, in search of Rina, had visited smithies and other locations that adventurers frequent—eventually even asking the customers in said establishments. Even the adventurer’s guild wouldn’t be able to deny a request from the kingdom itself. This man, however, apparently did not invoke such rights and had simply nodded and left after being denied the relevant information. 

If one were asking in a personal capacity, though, the adventurer’s guild would certainly not hand over private information so easily anyway. This was somewhat natural considering the fact that many members of the guild had one thing or another to hide. By extension, there was no shortage of adventurers who wanted to keep their pasts hidden. 

Taking all those factors into consideration, I casually delivered my answer. 

“I have not heard of... Anyone by the name of... ‘Rina Rogue.’” 

“...Is that so. That is most regrettable. If, by any chance, you do come across her in the future, I would be much obliged if you could contact me. I will, due to some other arrangements, be staying in this town for a certain amount of time. I have even taken some time off from my duties at the First Knights. But with that being said, it’s not a long period of absence. I hope I can meet and speak with her at least once before I return.” 

With that, the knight gave me the address of the guesthouse he was currently checked into before walking through the doors of the Three-Pronged Harpoon. Perhaps he had similar questions for Clope as well. 

Idoles gave off a somewhat sad aura, his being seemingly enveloped by a blanket of solitude and loneliness. Be that as it may, I couldn’t simply give away Rina’s personal information without her consent. 

Taking everything into consideration, the Rina that I had run into was unmistakably the person Idoles was searching for. I could say this with confidence, having spent most of my life in Maalt. In all my time, I hadn’t known another female adventurer by the name of Rina. 

The description Idoles provided was pretty much spot-on, as well; although the combination of blonde hair and blue eyes was somewhat rare to begin with. Folklore claims that only nobility, or at least those of high social stature and the like, are born with such a combination of traits. Needless to say, those specific traits were typically not observed in a town as rural as Maalt. 

While a new adventurer by that exact name and appearance could have shown up during my period of absence from the guild, the possibility of that was, logically speaking, somewhat low. 

Strictly speaking, though, the name Rina provided me was different than the one Idoles had used—but of course, Rina Rupaage was probably a false name. Due to the relative simplicity of the guild’s registration process and the absence of background checks of any kind, Rina could have registered with any name she wished. The guild mostly operated on an honor system after all. 

Even if it was made clear that a registrant had used a false name, they wouldn’t exactly be punished for it. All the guild cared about was the ability of the adventurer to complete the assignments and quests they had taken on—and that was that. 

Though, exceptions to this rule did exist. For instance, if a fugitive or criminal were to register in hopes of escaping justice, they could be easily handed over to the authorities—assuming there was sufficient evidence present. That said, however, a fair amount of criminals continued to hide from the authorities under the guise of adventurers—that was just how things were. 

If the guild’s staff couldn’t identify an individual as a criminal at a glance, they would probably slip through the system. From the viewpoint of a criminal on the run, the adventurer’s guild was quite a convenient thing. This was the reason that most townsfolk viewed adventurers with a suspicious eye. 

I was not exactly claiming that Rina was anything close to a criminal; however, the fact that she hid her real name suggested that she did not want to be found. 

This was why I responded to Idoles in the way that I had. My statement, while not exactly being a lie, was not entirely true, either. For even if I hadn’t heard of Rina Rogue, Rina Rupaage’s appearance perfectly matched his provided description. My resulting assumptions were probably not too far off the mark—but that was all there was to it. 

I had tasks that needed doing, as well. If Rina ever did get herself into a dangerous situation, all I had to do was lend her my aid then. 

The existence of a knight in this town was enough to make him stand out like a sore thumb—Idoles, of course, didn’t seem to realize this. 

Shelving my thoughts on the matter, I slowly began making my way back. For now, I supposed I should return to Lorraine’s abode. 

Taking a look at the current situation, I could say that I now looked sufficiently human. If I were smart about it, I could easily purchase new armor and the like. Thanks to my newfound appearance, I could probably even show up to the guild in person, as well—at the very least, the possibility of me being persecuted on the spot had significantly decreased. 

It was worth noting that I would have to challenge stronger monsters from here on out for the sake of Existential Evolution. For me to do that, however, I had to start adventuring in the New Moon Dungeon, as I couldn’t remain only in the Moon’s Reflection if I wished to advance. 

But before I set off for the New Moon, there was something I needed to do. 

“So... That’s why you want to go to the guild? I do think it’s still too soon...” said Lorraine, the owner of the house I currently stood in. 

Having prepared a meal for her, we both sat at the dining table, her savoring my cooking as I licked up a miniscule amount of her blood. It was during this surreal scene that I had brought up my list of daily tasks. 

To be specific, I was graduating from the Water Moon Dungeon, a minor dungeon for beginners, to the New Moon Dungeon, a major dungeon that was popular amongst most adventurers—from fresh-faced beginners to Silver-class veterans. Due to this, I had decided to pick up a long-term request of sorts from the guild, lest my trip go completely to waste. 

The part that Lorraine objected to was specifically the bit about me accepting a quest from the guild in person. Her reasoning was simple: although I was a little more human in appearance, I still looked extremely suspicious. 

Unsatisfied, Lorraine continued her explanation. “They would most certainly ask for Rentt Faina’s adventurer’s permit. Your appearance would then lead to all sorts of questions—questions strange enough to pique the guildmaster’s interest. There is also the problem of other veteran adventurers. They may be gathered in the guild hall, as they usually are—” 

“But then... They wouldn’t... Kick up such a fuss. Not over a... Bronze-class adventurer.” 

Frankly speaking, I was never really much of an adventurer to begin with, so I personally didn’t think that me showing up after a period of absence, albeit in strange garb, would be a huge issue. 

Lorraine, however, did not share my views. 

“...Perhaps you would say that from a perspective of strength alone, since it’s true that you were weak. That was why you remained Bronze-class for many years, so I agree with you on those points. 

“But while I agree... To the guild, you are a most valued existence. Although the many little tasks and assignments you carried out for the guild were individually not too remarkable, no one else in Maalt could carry out said tasks with the degree of perfection and precision as you did. The guild has always held you in high praise, to the point where they have long been ready to hire you on as guild staff should you ever stop adventuring.” 

“...Eh? Is... That so? You must be... Joking.” 

I was, honestly speaking, surprised at Lorraine’s words. While it was true that I had run many errands and such for the guild, I didn’t think my actions to be significant enough that the guild would want to hire me as a staff member. I could not, after all, simply live so complacently, thinking that my future was secure. 

Before I would even think of such things, however, I once again stated that I had no intentions of giving up my life as an adventurer—it was unthinkable. 

“I tell the truth, you know? Hmph. That’s fine, then... Either way, as long as you remain who you are as of now, going to the guild would be most—” Lorraine paused halfway through her sentence, shaking her head this way and that before starting to mumble to herself. “As long as I... Remained? Who I was? If Rentt was Rentt... If Rentt was not Rentt. Then maybe... Maybe there is a way through this...” 

Such was the nature of Lorraine’s mumblings. 

She looked up, finally done with her monologue. What she said next, however, was not what I expected—and was incredibly surprising, to say the least. 

“...Rentt. If you absolutely must accept assignments and quests from the adventurer’s guild, against all odds, then... Register again. With the guild, I mean. 

“Change your name. Register not as ‘Rentt Faina’... Well, it isn’t easy to tell people apart by their first names. You just have to change your family name to something else, and register under that new name.” 

Unable to understand Lorraine’s sudden proclamation, I sat as she began offering a slower, more detailed explanation, listening patiently as she did so. 

“...Oh...” 

How nostalgic it was to once again walk the halls of the adventurer’s guild. And yet, little had changed since the last time I was here. Realistically speaking, not much time had passed since my last visit. I had, however, thought that I would never see Maalt, let alone the guild, ever again. Hence, I somehow felt moved to a certain extent as I set foot in the familiar building—to the point where I could start shedding tears. 

Whether thralls had functional tear glands was another question entirely, one that I didn’t currently have the answer to. To find out, I stood still, opening my eyes for a solid thirty seconds without blinking. My eyes, however, did not feel any different or any more moist. They were, after all, dry from the beginning—perhaps it was to be expected that no tears fell from my eyes. 

“...?” 

Passing adventurers glanced at me; they must have thought it strange that someone would stand still at the guild’s entrance for an entire minute. Panicking, I quickly moved out of the way, making a beeline for the receptionist’s counter as I mentally reminded myself to accomplish the task I came to do. 

“Excuse... Me.” 

“Yes? How may I help you today?” 

I came face-to-face with yet another sight for sore eyes as the receptionist looked up from her counter. Her face provoked a deep sense of nostalgia in my being. 

Sheila Ibarss—she had worked at the adventurer’s guild for about half a decade now and was a seasoned member of staff who had become familiar with all the inner workings of the guild. To think that she was only a new trainee when I first met her— 

I thought back to how she had been assigned to me as my supervisor back in the day by the guildmaster. Nostalgic, indeed. Although it felt like I would start crying once more, this dried-up body of mine simply didn’t have any tears to offer. Reminding myself once more of my current condition, I stated my business to Sheila. 

“I would like... To register as... An adventurer.” 

“Oh, yes. Registration. ...Please fill out these forms right here. You may leave certain parts blank if you cannot fill them in for any reason.” 

With that, Sheila handed me a sheaf of rough-looking papers. These papers hailed from a certain country specializing in the export of magical scrolls and the like. The guild could apparently obtain said paper at a cheaper rate. Smoother, more high-quality paper was used for important documents issued by governmental organizations. As a result, the higher cost of higher-quality paper made it a rare sight. I did, however, recall seeing some pieces of it scattered carelessly around Lorraine’s abode... 

As instructed, I began filling out the form in question. It had been ten years since I’d filled out a form like this. Back then, I didn’t really have anything significant to write, and all I ended up writing was my name, age, and that I had some skill with the sword. 

Now that I think about it, I could certainly have written down more of my skills. Maybe I just didn’t know that they were useful skills worth writing down at the time. For example, I had some knowledge about herbology and the like, as well as experience in dissection and simple surgery. 

Although I was a beginner in either discipline, those were rare skills for an individual to possess. I had learned said skills from a herbologist and hunter back in my home village and eventually picked up enough field knowledge myself. 

If one were to question why I went out of the way to learn such skills, the answer was simple: I wanted to become an adventurer and was convinced that these skills would be of use. 

My goal from then still remained unchanged: that I would one day become a Mithril-class adventurer. That was all there was to it. 

To that end, I would gladly give up my Bronze-class achievement, even if I had to start from the ground up all over again. It didn’t matter to me if “Rentt Faina” became a Mithril-class adventurer—as long as I, in whatever name or form, became one, that was enough. 

That said, however...becoming a Bronze-class adventurer wasn’t exactly a huge task or feat. Perhaps it would seem that way to a normal person, but Bronze was somewhat low amongst the sea of adventurers present in the world. As such, starting over anew wasn’t exactly difficult to do. 

In addition, if I ever did end up evolving into a state where I looked like my old self again, all I had to do was work my way up once more. 

Although the adventurer’s guild rules stated that a single adventurer could not register under two identities, I had little choice in the matter. Even if I were somehow found out, there were no rules stating that I would be punished for it. 

The reason for this was simple, as there just wasn’t much point in an individual registering twice. It would, after all, be somewhat meaningless for one to split their efforts in two, effectively halving their progression rate. 

While I did still have my previous permit on me, simply holding it didn’t exactly grant me immunity from the rules, or from being questioned about my appearance. As such, Lorraine’s suggestion was a way around this problem—a somewhat unorthodox, but in my case, effective method. 

Basically, if “Rentt Faina” were to show up in such a state, dressed in such a strange manner, I was sure to be questioned. However, if I showed up as someone else, the chances of my appearance being inquired after became extremely low. 

Frankly speaking, though, there was no denying that I looked strange. But this strangeness was somewhat native to adventurers in general, and while a robed and masked adventurer would be thought of as weird, most people would end up staring at me for only a few seconds more before returning to their own affairs. 

Those were the thoughts in my mind as I continued flipping through the registration papers, finally reaching the last page. The last, and yet the first—a beginning, if you will. 

The last page was where one wrote their name. I supposed I could still use my first name, but what would I use for my family name? 

...Nothing came to mind. 

No matter; I could fill it in with anything I wanted. It would merely be a false name after all. 

With that thought in mind, I wrote my name on the paper in question, finally handing the documents back to Sheila. 

“...Ah, thank you very much. Let’s see... Rentt Vivie, yes...?” 

A somewhat sorrowful expression crossed Sheila’s features as she read my name out loud. Thinking it strange, I inquired after her. 

“...Is something... Wrong?” 

“No... It’s just... A few days ago, another adventurer named Rentt went missing...” 

That would have been none other than me. I, however, answered as if I knew nothing of the matter. 

“...I have heard... That adventurers must be prepared... For occasions like that.” 

It was a well-known risk of adventuring, as it wasn’t exactly rare for an adventurer to suddenly disappear. 

Death, of course, was only one of the many possibilities—the adventurer in question might have simply moved on to another area or town. Other reasons included the adventurer in question no longer wishing to brave the dungeons, instead taking on some other occupation, or they might have been a fugitive on the run all along. 

While there were countless reasons responsible for an adventurer’s sudden disappearance, Sheila seemed to be fully convinced that I had lost my life in the dungeon’s depths. I couldn’t blame her, as there were no other logical reasons for my disappearance. 

Sheila continued. “But yes, it is as you say. When it actually happens in reality, though... It’s a saddening thing. He was the first adventurer I supervised... So I was just a little surprised that your first names were...the same.” 

“I see... Well, if I may ask... Is that adventurer... Rentt Faina?” I phrased my question in a way that would not rouse Sheila’s suspicion. 

It was strange to be asking about myself, and Sheila herself seemed somewhat surprised. 

“Well, yes...it is. You know of him?” 

I had purposely wanted to draw this question out of Sheila; it would seem like I was successful in my endeavor. 

I offered Sheila a simple response. “Yes... I have heard of him... From Lorraine.” 

Sheila’s eyes widened at my mention of Lorraine’s name, as if finally realizing something. 

“Ahh... So that was it! Vivie... Are you a relative of Lorraine’s?” Sheila asked, not suspecting a thing. 

If I had introduced myself as a relative of Lorraine’s, it would only be natural that we shared the same family name. After all, it was only be a matter of time before the guild caught wind of the fact that I was living at Lorraine’s abode, so it was best to erase any potential causes for concern as early as possible. 

While it didn’t really affect me much, Lorraine was an unmarried woman. It would be unbecoming of me to cause her any further trouble, and as such, I had already prepared all the relevant excuses and explanations to go along with my proposed scenario. If I presented myself as a relative who had traveled to Maalt from a faraway land, there would be fewer questions to deal with. Not a bad excuse indeed. 

It’s also perhaps worth noting that “Rentt” was the name of a saint of sorts from ages long past. It was by no means an uncommon name across the lands. No matter the country, a sizable amount of its denizens were sure to have identical rare names, so another Rentt showing up in Maalt was no cause for alarm. 

“Yes, I am... I will be living at her abode... When I am in town.” 

“I see. I’d heard rumors of a strange person entering and leaving Lorraine’s residence as of late... Although I suppose Lorraine herself isn’t exactly normal.” 

As expected, rumors of me had already spread. 

I responded to Sheila’s statement with a simple nod. 

“I suppose that... Would be me. Well... I would not call myself strange. I am merely a relative that... Has been living with that girl... Since I entered the country...” 

While I had no idea how the situation would unfold, I decided to go with what I thought to be a reasonable lie. More specifically, I had written the scenario with myself starring as Lorraine’s grandfather, who was known for suddenly visiting his grandchildren on a whim. 

Sheila, for her part, seemed convinced. 

“I see... That must be hard, traveling so much! So, the one seen at Lorraine’s residence was you... The thought had crossed my mind that there were rumors about some strange man becoming involved with Lorraine; but I suppose that wasn’t the case after all... Right, here is your adventurer’s permit. It’s all done. Here you go.” 

Ending the conversation with the casual dismissal of what seemed to be a crass rumor, Sheila arranged the sheaf of papers in her hands. It seemed that she was done with my registration process. 

In her hands now was a dull-colored metal card. The symbol of an absolute beginner of an adventurer: the dull metallic gleam of an Iron-class adventurer’s permit. Every individual who signed up as an adventurer started their journey with this in hand. Even I was no exception, although it had been ages since I’d held a card of this color. 

It was a nostalgic feeling. I held it up against the light for one reason or another, staring at it with mixed feelings. Sheila, apparently familiar with the sight before her, smiled gently. 

“Should I explain the rules of the Adventurer’s Guild, and other details...?” 

While I was appreciative of Sheila’s offer, I was already a veteran adventurer. 

Although I wasn’t all that strong in life, I did have many years of service under my belt. It probably goes without saying that I was—and still am—excessively familiar with the rules in question. In life, I had even used those very rules to gain the upper hand against adventurers of ill intent. I didn’t have much in the way of combat strength after all. Back then, that was all I could do to stay ahead of the pack. 

This was why I responded to Sheila as such: 

“No... That will not be necessary. The rules and... Details. Are written in that... Right?” I said, pointing to a small leather-bound book on the receptionist’s counter. 

“Oh! You know of this?” Sheila asked, visibly surprised. 

I couldn’t blame her; few budding adventurers would be interested in that booklet, let alone know what was in it. The booklet in question contained various regulations and details regarding those rules, and guild staff would often recommend adventurers to read through it should they have questions. 

As for me, I had long memorized the contents of the booklet itself, having read through it many times in my lengthy career. 

By pointing the booklet out to Sheila, I had merely communicated the fact that I would use that very same time-tested method to answer any questions I might have about adventuring. 

“I heard about it... From Lorraine. About the basics... Of adventuring, too.” 

“I see. You do live together after all. Then I suppose that’s all fine and good! Well then, Mister Rentt, please work hard as an adventurer. Do value your life above all else, though!” 

I nodded in response to Sheila’s words and stepped away from the receptionist’s counter as my registration drew to a close. 

Lining the walls of the adventurer’s guild were a myriad of notice boards, each with written quests and assignments of all sorts pinned to them. The assignments in question, by and large, were sorted by color and coded as such for adventurers to quickly identify the type of task listed. 

Of course, there were many different jobs available, from odd errands anyone could run to jobs requiring a certain degree of strength and combat ability. The most dominant color, however, was that of “general help”: running errands, assisting with mundane tasks, and the like. As such, even adventurers who had little in the way of combat skill could easily make a living—but at the same time, this was also the reason why runaway criminals could easily blend into the sea of readily-available adventurers. 

Thinking back on it, while I had slain weaker monsters and collected dungeon materials in life, I had also performed quite a few odd jobs. Due to my history, I was more than used to odd jobs of any kind, but while I could easily accept those very same requests now, my current appearance did not exactly lend itself to such tasks. If anything, those odd errands I used to do were now significantly more difficult for me to take on. 

I was by no means intimidating or awe-inspiring in life; I was known for my seemingly harmless and childlike face. As such, I was able to blend in at various locations with ease, by no means disliked or discriminated against. But with my current appearance, I would surely be viewed as a stranger in a robe and a skull-faced mask—hardly the kind of person one would want running their odd jobs and errands. 

While the clients in question probably couldn’t afford to be too picky about who did their jobs for them, slaying monsters and trading in their materials was now a much more efficient means of earning gold for me. In addition, it also didn’t have much in the way of social interaction—either way, it worked out well for me. 

Perhaps it was silly to think I couldn’t endure the judgment of others while running errands. Though I could definitely tolerate it, to take on such requests while being able to slay monsters for greater rewards was equally foolish. 

Weighing the two options, I found myself quickly settling for the dark hallways of the dungeon instead. 

With all those thoughts in mind, I stepped up to the request board, retrieving a written task that seemed well within my current capabilities. Giving it a quick read, I nodded, then walked toward Sheila’s counter with the request in hand. 

“Ah, Mister Rentt. Have you already decided on a request to work on?” 

I handed the sheet of paper over to Sheila in response, but Sheila was quick to voice her disapproval after a fleeting glance. 

“...A request to slay and collect materials from orcs, all of a sudden? With all due respect, Mister Rentt...perhaps you might consider looking at collecting the magic crystals of goblins, instead? You have only just started adventuring after all...” 

Orcs were, no doubt, somewhat strong monsters. Roughly put, they would be an even match for upper, or at least average, Bronze-class adventurers. While Sheila’s concerns were valid, I could easily defeat orcs and their ilk with my current degree of power. 

But with that said, becoming surrounded would still prove to be a problem. All I had to do, then, was simply avoid such a scenario in the first place. 

“...I have slain... Orcs, where I used to live... Before. While I am indeed... A new adventurer... I have quite some confidence... In my abilities.” 

Swordsmen and the like hailing from foreign lands becoming adventurers were not exactly rare, so my reasoning was perfectly believable. 

My words did little to reassure Sheila, though, who was still evidently worried. 

However, she did not attempt to stop me, instead simply continuing on with the appropriate procedures, as if she had given up on convincing me to do otherwise. 

“...Just don’t do anything risky. We all only live one life after all. If it looks bad, please retreat to a safe location, all right?” 

More than anyone else, I understood the importance of Sheila’s advice. After all, I had already died once before. If anything, I had always been the type to hastily retreat if I sensed the slightest bit of danger, so Sheila’s worries, while good-natured, were misplaced. 

But offering words of caution to adventurers was just part of her job. 

I responded with a simple acknowledgment of “I understand,” and that was all I had to say. 

With my adventurer’s registration out of the way, I had no intention to suddenly head toward the New Moon Dungeon. Of course, there was the issue of me having accepted the orc materials request, but there was plenty of time left for me to fulfill that at a later date. 

I had to head to somewhere else first—more precisely, to the uncharted sector of the Moon’s Reflection. Simply put, I was headed to the location where I had last fought the giant skeleton. 

The Water Moon Dungeon was, as usual, quite quiet. While I did pass by the occasional Iron-class adventurer, they did not seem to notice me as I walked by, being too engrossed in their own battles with some monster or another. 

In addition to giving them a wide berth, I did what I could to suppress my magic and spiritual presence, stealthily walking through the dungeon’s halls. In the past, all I had to do to sneak past human and monster alike was to be a little more silent, so weak were my powers that neither would have noticed me anyway. 

I wasn’t sure if I should be so happy that I had to do something like this now to advance unnoticed, since it was a little troublesome. Even so, I supposed issues like these were worries that only the strong faced. I decided to shelve those thoughts for now, given that they were not significant problems to begin with. If anything, I viewed it as practice; hiding my mana and spirit at will would surely improve my control over said abilities as time went by. 

Arriving at a familiar entrance, I stepped into the hidden pathway, eventually reaching and confidently stepping into the magic circle on the ground. 

Having used it once, the circle no longer felt as intimidating or dangerous. Although I had heard stories of magic circles that transport users to different locations each time, I had difficulties believing that such an ill-intentioned mechanism was present in this dungeon. Perhaps it would be a given to encounter those circles in dungeons of a higher difficulty, but the Moon’s Reflection didn’t seem like such a location. 

With that being said, however, there was no other way to verify my suspicions. Thankfully, the magic circle proved to be benign, transporting me to the very same chamber where I’d first fought the giant skeleton. Readying my sword, I slowly stepped out of the circle— 

While I had defeated it before, the giant skeleton could have simply reappeared during my absence. This was, for all intents and purposes, a boss chamber, so the skeleton in question might endlessly reappear in a cycle, or it might have been a one-off. Not knowing which of the two this chamber was, I advanced carefully, mentally prepared for the possibility of combat. This was the least I could do, as it paid well to be cautious in the dungeon. 

However, no matter how long I waited after exiting the circle, the giant skeleton did not reappear—in fact, I could not feel its presence at all. Maybe it needed more time, or maybe it was a monster that only appeared once. Either way, I lowered my sword, somewhat more relieved than I previously was. With that, though, I had no intentions of sheathing my blade. 

Looking around, I once again found myself in a large, empty chamber. One would question why I ended up at such a location after accepting a request that was to be fulfilled in another dungeon—but of course, I had my reasons. 

This very magic circle that I’d just stepped out of only appeared after I defeated the giant skeleton—it had been invisible prior to that. I’d discovered this newly-formed circle during a search of the chamber while Loris, the owner of the Red Wyvern Pavilion, was unconscious. 

However, that was not all I found. In reality, there was one more circle, positioned on the ground not far from the one I’d stepped into to enter the giant skeleton’s chamber. If I had to guess, that circle was probably connected to another location. The Water Moon Dungeon seemed to continue on past this magic circle. 

Slowly, I stepped into the circle on the ground. While I didn’t understand the language used to inscribe it, nor the principles behind the strange magics used to power it, I could at least see that this circle was drawn a little differently from the one that led to the boss chamber. Surely, it would bring me to a different location. 

Perhaps this was all a trap of sorts—two circles in a room, with the more unfortunate intruders ending up in a sealed room with a giant skeleton. I supposed such things happened from time to time. 

Well, then... What would it be this time? Snakes? Demons? A dragon, perhaps? 

Of course, there was no other way of finding out. As the magic circle began giving off a bright light, I readied my sword once again, waiting for the eventual change in my surroundings. 

As the light slowly began to fade, I quickly turned to look at my surroundings, prepared for an attack from any direction. I couldn’t discount the possibility that this circle, too, was a trap of some kind, with monsters or the like lying in wait. However... 

As far as I could see, there were no monsters here, let alone any sort of traps. Instead, I found myself in a messy, cluttered room. All sorts of objects lay about, some rotting on the ground. All signs pointed to this place having been inhabited at some point in time—if anything, it didn’t look like it belonged in the dungeon at all. 

Several shelves lined the wall—even a table and bed were present. What appeared to be a soft toy lay on the ground near me. As I reached out to touch it, however, the toy crumbled into dust, leaving no trace of its previous form. I could only assume that this place had been untouched for years, perhaps even centuries. 

The thing that caught my attention, however, was the bed at the end of the room—or, to be precise, what was sleeping on that bed. Someone had slept their last night here many, many years ago, and even now continued their eternal slumber. 

A set of white bones lay, somewhat serenely, on the bed. There was no light in the skull’s sunken sockets; what remained of its eyes looked straight up at the ceiling, its skeletal hands clasped on its chest. At a glance, the individual in question seemed to have died peacefully in their sleep. 

A bouquet of dried flowers lay by their pillow. I reached out to touch them, only to be greeted by the sight of said flowers turning into dust before my very eyes. 

What...is this place? 

Someone once lived here—I could see that much—but I’d never heard of a human being living so deep in a dungeon of any kind. 

For starters, was something like that even possible...? 

I had no idea. However, the very existence of this room proved one thing: if this room existed, its owner must have also existed and lived here at some point in time. 

Even so... I hadn’t seen anything resembling treasure around me. What deeper meaning did this place hold? 

With that in mind, I searched the room, looking through the debris and ruins like any good adventurer would. But nothing noteworthy was to be found. After I had come all this way, too... I supposed there were some old books on those shelves? 

Glancing at the shelves, many of the books in question appeared to be reference tomes that were most likely undecipherable except by the most skilled specialists. Strangely, amidst these volumes were what seemed to be thin picture books. Did a child live here? 

These were, of course, all very old books. If I took some of them with me, I am sure they would fetch a fair amount of coin. 

Nodding, I reached out for the ancient books— 

“...You there. What exactly do you think you’re doing?” a voice rang out from behind me. 

Behind me...? This was abnormal—impossible, even. I’d constantly been on guard, after all, not knowing what lay in the depths of this room. 

I had little choice but to turn around. The owner of the voice could have suddenly attacked me—but instead, they called out to me, as if they had expected and were waiting for me to turn around. 

Slowly, I turned to face the direction of the voice. It was a woman. At a glance, she didn’t look too special: Soft, white hair; blue eyes; and a gentle, soothing smile—such was the woman that stood before me in this small room. She was wearing a black robe; a mage of sorts, perhaps. 

The woman spoke to me once more. 

“I will ask you again: What exactly are you doing in this place?” 

It was a calm voice, gentle and soothing, almost like the voice of an adult questioning a child for a slight of some kind. 

I, however, stopped breathing. For a moment, I was gripped by an intense feeling of nervousness, of tension... 

If I had to put it simply: this woman was bad news. 

I trusted the gut feeling that I’d relied on for most of my life, so I could easily say that much without any hesitation. But the woman stood in front of the magic circle, effectively sealing off my only means of escape. 

I had no idea what I should do. I suppose the only choice I had was to answer her question; this was the conclusion I arrived at after much frantic thought. 

I offered the woman my answer. 

“...I was just... Looking around for... Anything of value... I am an adventurer, so...” 

“Haha. Value, value... Anything of value... I see. So, you are a thief? Well, then, I do hope you are prepared to die here?” 

“What...?” 

“You seem troubled. But yes, of course. I understand. I understand but...there are some things I simply cannot forgive. I do not wish to defile this place... But to that end, I suppose I will just have to erase you—there is no other way.” 

With that, the woman lightly raised her hand, pointing it my way. I had no idea what she was doing when just then, almost instantaneously, I noticed the fearsome amount of magic condensing into the palm of her hand. Instinctively, I put all of my abilities into defensive magics and skills. With a Shield of magic, the strengthening of my body with spirit, and the infusion of my blade with divinity, surely I would be able to ward off any attack. 

Of course, I had fully intended to dodge the whole attack, if possible. The woman’s assault, however, was much faster, much more accurate. 

Intense flames shot forth from her palm, smashing into my being. It was like the breath of a dragon, and the force sunk into me like a cannonball—such was the power of its impact. It was much more heavy, more powerful, than the blow of a mere giant skeleton. 

I was sent flying, smashing clean into a nearby wall. I felt a spike of pain flash up my back. While I was glad that I’d blocked a single attack, the battle was far from over. I could immediately feel the same type of magic being gathered into the woman’s palm once more—death itself was being condensed into a fireball a short distance before me. 

As I struggled to get up, the woman slowly approached, her palm raised with murderous intent. There was no way I could defend against the next blow. 

Even so, I couldn’t give up, and I started the preparations for another layer of magic shielding. I probably wouldn’t make it in time... But then I noticed the gaze of the woman, leveled squarely on me. What happened next was unexpected, as the woman’s movements stopped where she stood. 

“...You... Your...body...?” It would seem like she had a question for me. 

My body? What of it? 

While it was protected by a wave of magic and spirit, my robes had been set aflame by the previous fireball. Most of my garments were now burnt to a crisp, revealing the rotten, corpse-like bits of my thrall body. No matter how one looked at it, I hardly seemed human with bits of rotting, and occasional dried, pieces of flesh on my body. The woman seemed surprised at this. 

But of course she would be; only monsters would look like this. 

“...What... Of it. Even I... Did not choose to... Become like this. Do you think... I like... Looking like this?” 

I had no illusions regarding the situation. There was just no way I could escape from this woman. I was doomed to die in this room, so I might as well say what I wanted to say. This might very well be the last time I would get to say it. 

The woman, however, didn’t seem angered by my words. Instead, she lowered her hand, the traces of magic fading from her palm. 

“...But yes. Of course... I see. It would seem that I was mistaken—a misunderstanding. I do apologize.” 

Was the woman...apologizing to me? 

“Oh... I see that your robes have unfortunately caught fire. I do not have any replacements on hand... Perhaps I could offer you this instead. It is well-made, and I do believe it would be of service to you.” 

Saying so, the woman took off her black robes, folding them up and handing them to me. 

“Ah, one more thing to note: This is a room of great importance to me. I suppose even you would understand that this place is special. Could I please request that you not make mention of this room to anyone else?” the woman said, looking at me with a serene expression. 

The woman surely knew that I would agree; after all, she had let me live in exchange for keeping this room’s location a secret. What I didn’t understand was how the woman knew of this room, and why I was not allowed to report it to anyone. Even if one was not an adventurer, discovering an uncharted sector in a dungeon was a big find. One could end up with enough wealth to last a lifetime, so it was a given that the average person would report this information to the guild. 

“You... Don’t want me to... Tell the guild...?” 

“Yes, I suppose that would be for the best. More accurately, if you were not present, there would be no means of entering this room. You arrived here via that magic circle, yes? That circle would only activate if you stepped into it.” 

That was what the woman had to say, in addition to the many other things she went on to mention that I had no way of understanding. Such was the gap in power between us. Even Lorraine, who was a Silver-class mage, would not be able to compare to her strength. If I had given her an answer she did not appreciate, death would surely be her response—I could see that much. 

However, advancing in adventurer rank was also my dream. Originally, I intended for Loris to report the uncharted sector, in turn returning the gold I had loaned him via the giant skeleton’s magic crystal. Now, with my somewhat human-like appearance, I had thought it possible to report this information to the guild at a time when it was less crowded. This would surely increase my rank and influence with the guild, bringing me a step closer to the goal of becoming a Mithril-class adventurer. 

At least, that was what I thought. This woman, however, did not want me to do anything of the sort... 

As if understanding how I felt about the situation, the woman started speaking once more. 

“...With that being said, I suppose you would not like to return empty-handed. I understand. Adventurers are always seeking some form of tangible result or achievement, you see. Perhaps this would not amount to much of a replacement, but it will still surely be of use to you. What do you think?” 

“This is...” 

The object offered to me appeared to be some sort of ancient parchment—it was also remarkably blank. At a glance, I could deduce that it was probably an ancient literary artifact of some kind. Unfortunately, it didn’t look like it was worth much of a fortune at all. 

But the woman continued her explanation. 

“This is an artifact that automatically maps dungeon sectors that its owner has set foot into—a magic tool known as the Map of Akasha. As of now, nothing is written on it, but that is only due to the fact that the previous owner erased the archived maps on it. It would surely be useful to an adventurer such as yourself... What do you think?” 

If what the woman said was true, this was a useful tool indeed. In fact, it was surprising that such an item could exist. If I were to consider selling it, setting a fair price for it alone would pose quite a bit of a challenge. 

But of course, this was assuming what the woman said was true. Could such a fantastical tool even exist in our world? 

“Would you at least consider my request if I were to prove to you the validity of my claims?” 

I nodded at the woman’s question. If the map worked as the woman claimed it did, owning it would definitely make my dungeon exploration much easier. I supposed there was some worth in listening to her requests, even if I remained skeptical of the entire affair. 

“Well, then, please channel your magic through the parchment...” 

I did as I was told, and— 

“...Amazing...” 

I could only hold my figurative breath as lines dashed across the surface of the previously blank parchment, eventually forming a detailed map of the Moon’s Reflection. Even the little details and notes that I had written on my own battered map had appeared, neatly surfacing themselves on the parchment. 

“I suppose we have an agreement?” 

“...Yes. I suppose we do.” 

While I still felt an intense urge to report this uncharted sector to the guild, there was a high possibility that this woman would come for my life if I did so. She had, after all, been unmistakably attempting to kill me mere minutes ago—I could not go against her words even if I wanted to. 

“I see. That is most pleasing. Well, then, I should see you off—to the entrance, at least.” 

“Eh?” 

Before I could say anything else, the woman activated some sort of translocation magic. Immediately, I found my vision distorting before me. Smiling gently as she waved, her expression seemed markedly different from the murderous face she had worn earlier in our encounter. 

“...Well, then. Do take care... Perhaps it is a little silly to say that to one such as yourself, though.” 

With those parting words, she was gone, and I soon found myself standing at the entrance of the Moon’s Reflection. 

Was this just a dream? 

I looked down. My robes were indeed different, and I held an ancient-looking piece of parchment in my hand. 

...What was that all about? 

I couldn’t stop thinking about the events that had just transpired. I no longer had any intentions of exploring today, and with apprehensive thoughts of these recent affairs filling my mind, I slowly made my way back to the town of Maalt. 

“...It’s almost as if you have been cursed, Rentt. Why do these strange things keep happening to you as of late?” 

That was apparently what Lorraine had to say as I described the details of my latest adventure to her. She looked at me with an expression of mild disbelief and exasperation. 

It is not like... I would like to have... Strange things happen to me all... The time. 

Although I wanted to deliver such a rebuke to Lorraine, I was the one who had returned to the place where I met the dragon, merrily advancing deep into the unknown of the dungeon. Even if I couldn’t feel the dragon’s presence anymore, sticking my head into such a place was not exactly smart—as such, I swallowed my words. For all intents and purposes, Lorraine was right. 

“Well... Adventurers are known to get into all sorts of strange situations—occupational hazards and all that. A little too late to complain, I would say... Right, well, this magic tool of yours. Seems like it works relatively well,” Lorraine said, staring at the Map of Akasha that I had obtained from the white-haired woman. 

While the automatic mapping of a dungeon was convenient indeed, I’d come across one too many cursed objects. As such, I felt like there could never be too much caution when it came to appraising items gifted to me and decided to have Lorraine perform an inspection to reveal any potential traps or misgivings. 

While I did have my fair share of divinity and could detect curses easily, special items that were beyond my reach did exist—my mask, for example, was one such case. The most I could do with my divinity was get a rough feeling if there was anything unsavory lying in wait for me within the object, as detailed examinations were beyond my ability. 

Lorraine, however, had her share of scholarly knowledge, in addition to her skills at magic and alchemy. With her experience, she would possibly be able to gain some insight on the map—hence my decision. Apparently she also possessed the qualifications to officially appraise items for the guild, so she would have no trouble finding jobs with the qualifications she held. In addition, she only performed item appraisal on an odd-job basis. I couldn’t help but be envious of her capabilities. 

“...Have you found out... Anything about how to use... This map in detail?” 

While the woman had simply handed the map over to me and told me to infuse my magic into it, I knew little else about how this map worked, or if it could be used in any other way. 

“I did try investigating it, yes, but it seems like I cannot use this map on my own. You were told that running magic through this map causes it to draw itself, correct? But it seems like your magic is specifically required as mine alone does not work. Here, you try.” 

With that, Lorraine casually handed the map to me. Sure enough, familiar lines detailing the passageways and floors of the Moon’s Reflection started appearing on its surface. 

“Hmm... Quite something else indeed. This... What is this here?” 

Upon closer inspection, a black dot was visible on the map’s surface, perpetually in motion. Overcome by curiosity, I touched the dot with a finger, and upon doing so caused what appeared to be a name to materialize beneath the dot. 

“This is...” 

“It would seem so, yes. This is the name of an individual who is currently exploring the dungeon. To think that the map is capable of even this—truly terrifying indeed. What capability! This is undoubtedly an item on par with a kingdom’s national treasures,” Lorraine said, seemingly moved by the map’s abilities. 

In truth, I knew I had struck a good deal even without knowing about this map’s additional functions—but in exchange, I’d almost lost my life to that woman’s magic. Taking these factors into account, I suppose the trade was somewhat even. 

Lorraine and I continued conducting various tests and experiments on the map, eventually discovering that the area illustrated by said map could change as long as I willed it to do so—so long as I was channeling magic into it. For example, I could easily instruct the map to illustrate another area, changing its display from the halls of the Moon’s Reflection to another location of my choice. 

In addition, the ability of the map to show the names of other adventurers only worked if the wielder had fully explored the dungeon in question. Although I had completed the mapping of the Moon’s Reflection over my long career, I had hardly explored the New Moon Dungeon. 

Upon attempting to have the map switch its focus to the latter dungeon, I realized that only the areas I had been to previously were mapped. In addition, the adventurer-tracking function was inactive. This was proven to be the case as Lorraine and I stared at the map together for a considerable amount of time—yet nary a dot appeared on its surface. If I had to guess, I’d simply not mapped this dungeon enough for said function to activate. 

Strictly speaking, it was more than a guess, as the tracking function had worked on the first floor of the New Moon, which I’d finished mapping some time ago. Taking this fact into account, it was plain to see that the other floors needed a similar amount of work before the tracking function in question would start working. 

While the Map of Akasha was certainly a convenient tool, it still had its own limitations. 

There was one more thing I had to ask Lorraine, however. 

“What about... Curses and the like...?” 

“It seems safe from what I see so far. You will probably be able to use it without much cause for worry. This is quite the artifact you have found...” 

“Is... That so?” 

Lorraine’s appraisal of the map’s worth seemed somewhat sudden. 

“But of course. It is highly resistant against magic of all sorts and cannot easily be cut with sharp objects. Though I have no idea how well it would hold up against a skilled swordsman or a well-crafted sword, it seems to have more defensive capabilities than normal armor. Yes, that would be a good analogy for it.” 

Lorraine’s analogy was somewhat astounding, for if it were true, this map would be quite the artifact indeed. Although I found myself utterly disappointed that I could no longer report the discovery of a previously uncharted sector to the adventurer’s guild, the fact that I had obtained such a convenient magical tool and makeshift defense item impressed me. Perhaps I actually gained much more from this trade than I’d initially assumed. 

Besides, even if I reported said uncharted sector, the Water Moon Dungeon was only a beginner-level dungeon frequented by adventurers up to the Bronze-class level. While I could have expected a reasonably-sized award, the recognition I would have gained from such a discovery would not be that significant in the greater scheme of things. 

With that in mind, I suppose I could call this trade a definite plus. After all, the magic crystals I had harvested from monsters in the sector (with the exception of the giant skeleton’s crystal) were sold for a tidy sum by Lorraine, so I was now financially stable, if not comfortable. 

Although I had handed Clope half my fortune as a deposit for my order-made weapon, I was now no longer in danger of going into the red. 

“...Well. Lastly, there is the issue of the woman that you met in that place... I have no information on her, unfortunately. Personally, I am more interested in the ability and techniques required to create some sort of abode in a dungeon, of all places...” 

It would seem like Lorraine and I were in agreement on that point. The woman had suddenly appeared and quickly sent me on my way without providing much of an explanation. Due to our relatively short interaction, I had no way of observing her in detail, and as a result, no way of deducing who she could have been. 

Although I was certain of her strength, the fact that she could reprimand and intimidate me in such a fashion meant that she was a rarity in and of herself. 

In my current state, I could probably take on a lower Silver-class adventurer. Even if I couldn’t win, I would at least be able to escape. If faced with a Gold-class or above adventurer, however, I would surely be defeated in an instant. That would be a fair assessment of my current strength. 

But of course, I had no intentions of stagnating here—I wanted to climb to greater heights. To achieve that, I needed a body that could grow, and this was something I now possessed. 

With that said, however, there was still the possibility that no matter how much I evolved, I would still remain a monster of sorts. 

“Actually... I was about to head off... To that uncharted sector again...” 

“Even though you were chased out the last time? How very brave of you.” 

“The woman told me... To not ‘report’ that place... To the guild. She said nothing... About ‘not going back’ there.” 

“...I suppose that much is true, at least from what you’ve told me. It is, however, a technicality, as she obviously does not wish for you to step foot in that place again.” 

Lorraine’s words rang true, but many things about that encounter still bothered me. I would at least like to speak with her one more time, and ask her certain questions—such were my hopes. 

If it couldn’t be done, then so be it, but I had to at least try. From how our last interaction ended, I could somewhat assume that she would no longer immediately make an attempt on my life. 

Lorraine, in turn, had a few words of caution for me. 

“...You would do well to be careful. That woman is by no means normal—I can say that much just by listening to your account. There is no telling what would draw forth her ire.” 

“I know.” 

Lorraine nodded. Perhaps it was obvious, but having faced her in person and nearly dying from the experience, I understood that point better than anyone else. 

Lorraine was right: I had to be careful above all else, lest I find myself staring death in the face without warning once more. 

It would unfortunately turn out that all my effort was wasted, as I would find out the very next day. 

The reason for this was simple: what was previously the entrance to the uncharted sector of the Moon’s Reflection had apparently disappeared without a trace. No matter how I looked at it, the dead end in question was now a perfect wall—and that was all that currently stood there. 

Unconvinced, I walked up to the wall, touching it here and there with my hands. All that greeted my fingers, however, was a cold, smooth surface—and that was it. With this, all means of retrieving clues, or any kind of answers from the woman, were gone. 

Just who was she...? 

I stood still, thinking about the question for a period of time. The answers, however, eluded me; no one would simply walk up to me with all the answers to my questions, after all. 

Would I perhaps meet her again someday? 

I had no idea. But one thing did remain clear in my mind: I would continue climbing the ranks toward my goal, eventually becoming a Mithril-class adventurer. I would definitely meet her again, someday. At the very least, I felt that way. 

In life, I had trained hard, day after day for an entire decade, without the slightest thing to show for it. 

But things were now very different. A meeting with a dragon, discovering an uncharted area of a dungeon... And of course, I was now an undead. 

Perhaps a normal person would say that I was unfortunate. I, however, did not feel that way. 

I would fight many monsters, encounter many mysteries, and above all, become stronger. All this, too, would contribute to my goal of eventually becoming a Mithril-class adventurer. 

That is the sort of adventure that I am currently undertaking—come to think of it, the various misfortunes that have visited me recently could also be seen as invaluable, precious experiences. I would definitely grasp that Mithril dream with my hands. 

With those thoughts in mind, I steeled my resolve. My dream was difficult, and to fulfill it, I would surely have to meet with the dragon and that woman again. I would have to be at least able to stand toe-to-toe with them when that time inevitably came. 

If there is a will, there is a way... I would not have it by any other means.