The source of that piercing scream was somewhere near the central tower. It was a fair distance away, and the surroundings were already beginning to dim, but I could spot the location immediately because of the void opening up where the undead were scrambling to get away.
There, I saw a small group of undead. Unlike the majority, who wore clothes that were little more than tattered rags, these individuals were clad in respectable, if antiquated, equipment. There were probably a dozen or so of them—not quite twenty—and they were unilaterally driving the other undead back with iron clubs and whips.
"Are those the 'Jailers'?" I asked.
"Yes," Reinbach-sama answered. "The wretched remains of what was once the facility's staff."
Though they were few in number compared to the total population, the positions and personalities they’d held in life seemed to still hold sway. They were aggressive toward the prisoners, tormenting them with a persistent, sadistic streak. The prisoner undead showed some intent to resist, but they were generally on the defensive, perhaps a lingering instinct from their former lives.
Despite their overwhelming numerical advantage, they were being beaten and pushed back without a fight. It was likely a combination of the difference in equipment and their social standing in life, but...
"Those Jailers move much more smoothly than the others," I noted.
"I believe those are Ghouls and Skeleton Warriors," Remily-san said.
Ghouls were a high-tier species of zombie, and Skeleton Warriors were a high-tier species of skeleton. A Ghoul’s body was closer to a fresh human corpse than a standard zombie, granting it superior physical capabilities. Skeleton Warriors moved much more like living humans and could wield weapons effectively, making them far more dangerous.
Furthermore, unlike the other undead, these creatures appeared to be shrouded in a visible black haze. Even at this distance, I felt a wave of revulsion—an instinctual sense of dread that far surpassed what I felt from the others. That had to be the miasma I’d heard about, condensed to the point of being visible to the naked eye.
As if to confirm my suspicion, Remily-san’s expression grew grim as she identified them.
"Are they that much of a problem?"
"It's not that they're particularly strong, just... a nuisance," she replied. "The miasma itself acts like a poison, so it’s dangerous to get too close. It also neutralizes light magic, making our spells less effective and forcing us to expend more effort. As far as combat ability goes, they aren't much different from normal high-tier species. Their ferocity is dialed up a bit, but even then, their movements only go from sub-human to human-level. For us, it’s just a margin of error."
"We knew they would likely be here," Sieber-san stated flatly. "Our objective remains the same. The best thing to do is simply eliminate them quickly."
Ever since those Jailers appeared, the other undead had become restless. The atmosphere was no longer conducive to a peaceful meal. As long as those creatures were present, I couldn't expect the same results from my magic. As Sieber-san said, it was probably best to take them out now.
But that gave rise to a new question: would my magic even work on those Jailers?
"I'll try one thing," I said.
With their permission, I added more ingredients to the vessel. The new fuel blazed up immediately. Ignoring the heat radiating against my skin, I focused my prayers on the offering and had the smoke slimes deliver the smoke. I could sense the slimes weren't exactly eager to get close, so I didn't push them, letting them drift as near as they felt safe.
The dispersing smoke converged into a single stream, slipping through the gathered prisoners and flowing down the stairs. It looked like a river current, making the feet of the undead invisible. However, when the tip of the smoke finally reached the Jailers...
"They're reacting, but it doesn't seem to have much effect," I reported. "I think I only made them angry."
A shrill scream, similar to the first, echoed through the air. I felt their hostility shift toward us. Ignoring the prisoners they had been obsessing over a moment ago, they began to push through the crowd. However, the congestion didn't clear up just because they wanted to move; they were meeting some resistance from the mob, so it looked like it would take a bit of time for them to reach us.
"It seems this magic doesn't work on every kind of undead," Reinbach-sama observed.
"It doesn't," I agreed. "Maybe the lack of effect is due to a different cause of death, or perhaps their innate aggressiveness? This magic is fundamentally a memorial service. Forcing it on them doesn't really fit the concept, so maybe it requires the target to accept it voluntarily..."
"It is possible the effect is weak on undead trapped in their own murderous intent or sadism," Sebas added.
At the very least, it wasn't going to work the same way it had for the prisoners. I’d have to call it a failure, technically, but it was excellent data.
So, based on these results, what would happen if I changed the objective slightly? It was only natural to adapt my tactics to the enemy. If I could create specialized magic to soothe undead suffering from hunger and thirst, then I should be able to create a spell specifically for the Jailers, provided I had the right concept.
"If appealing to their hunger and thirst doesn't work, I’ll stop trying that," I muttered. "Instead of soothing them... I'll strip away the miasma they’re wearing. If it’s like a poison, then I need disinfection. Yes, that might work."
Smoke contains components with bactericidal and preservative properties. Smoked meats, for instance, utilize those effects to improve shelf life. There are also many fumigants used specifically for sterilization and pest control. Even outside of those benefits, smoke is suffocating if inhaled and it stings the eyes.
Then there was the ash produced by burning fuel. Just as soap was famously born from the ash left after roasting meat, ash has disinfecting, sterilizing, and cleansing properties. The act of burning or heating is itself a method of sterilization, and naturally, fire produces light.
This time, I focused my mind on the disinfecting and cleansing properties of fire and smoke. The image wasn't a "memorial service," but an "exorcism." I prayed for them to be liberated from the miasma and for the undead to be weakened. I added the sake lees that the prisoners had enjoyed so much and offered a prayer of purification.
Soon after, another shrill cry reached us through the spirit shelf—only this time, it sounded like a scream of agony.
"...It worked," Sieber-san said. "I am no longer surprised."
"I figured you were up to something when you whispered that it might work," Remily-san noted. "Is this a magic to erase miasma?"
"I used the image of driving away pests with smoke and washing away filth with ash," I explained. "Can you tell what's actually changing?"
"The miasma is gradually thinning," she replied. "If you keep smoking them like this, it looks like it'll be safe to get close soon. Their movements have slowed down a bit too; I think the smoke in their eyes is bothering them. It’s affecting the surrounding undead as well, though."
Since I was using smoke as a medium, the effect was inevitably indiscriminate across the wide area. I felt a bit bad for the collateral damage, but I needed them to bear with it for a while.
"In any case, it's made them much easier to fight," Sieber-san said. "This is more than enough for me. I'll meet them in front of the base. Ryoma, keep doing what you're doing."
"Understood. I'll steer the smoke in that area away so it doesn't get in your way."
With a nod, Sieber-san stepped forward just as the Jailers reached the perimeter. The battle began instantly.
"Kill you all!"
"Hmph!"
The lead Ghoul lunged forward, swinging an iron club, only to be effortlessly repelled by a horizontal sweep of Sieber-san’s halberd.
"Grrr!"
"Screee!"
"Kill... kill..."
"I am your opponent," Sieber-san declared. "Come at me with everything you have."
He caught the rest of the pack in the impact, halting their advance. The magical power radiating from his body was more intense than anything I’d seen from him so far.
A Skeleton Warrior stepped out of the group, only for its head to vanish. The axe blade smashed through its helmet and pulverized the skull within. In the next heartbeat, the butt of the halberd swung up to replace the axe, knocking the creature's torso aside, followed by a fluid, sweeping strike of the blade.
Every time Sieber-san swung his weapon, parts of the undead were sent flying, only to be reduced to fine powder by the localized gales he created. Even for the undead, regeneration was impossible when they were being systematically carved up and ground into dust.
It looked savage at a glance, but the reality was anything but. His handling of the halberd was incredibly precise, and the gales he summoned didn't blow back toward us or even bother the surrounding undead; they exclusively snared the hostile Jailers.
"My, he's certainly energetic," Remily-san teased. "I just hope he doesn't tire himself out halfway through."
"I can hear you!" Sieber-san roared. "I haven't aged so much that I'd miscalculate my own limits!"
Even as he shouted, his movements never slowed. He dominated the engagement from start to finish. Soon, only one Jailer remained.
"Rebellious... person... pun... punish... ment..."
"You are the last," Sieber-san said calmly. "Sleep in peace."
The final undead stood with its weapon raised, but it seemed frozen in terror, muttering deliriously until Sieber-san cut it down. Suddenly, the surrounding prisoner undead erupted into a massive clamor.
It was exactly like an audience cheering when a villain is defeated in a movie. It felt like people laughing and feeling a sense of relief after a bully gets what’s coming to them. That same energy rippled through the mob of undead.
"Good work," I said as Sieber-san returned. "Would you like some water?"
"I'm fine. I've fought far less today than I expected, so I have plenty of strength left. More importantly, continue the service... If possible, help those Jailers reach the side of the Gods as well."
"I will."
I shifted my mental image from exorcism back to a memorial service and built up the fire. Seeing this, the undead who had fled from the Jailers swarmed back to bathe in the smoke once more.
Was it excitement from the Jailers' defeat, or a sense of liberation? Though they weren't being violent, they were moving with more energy than before. It felt strange to say this about the undead, but they seemed... lively.
"...It almost looks like they're dancing," Remily-san observed.
"What?"
"Look. That skeleton over there, and that zombie. Even the wraiths in the air—some are diving headfirst into the smoke while others aren't. There’s no real coordination, so they might just be stumbling around, but still."
"Some are sitting and others are lying down," Reinbach-sama added. "It truly does look like a banquet, doesn't it?"
The ones sitting or lying down to soak in the low-drifting smoke looked like people eating and drinking, or guests who had passed out happy. The ones standing and moving around looked like the life of the party dancing in the crowd. Now that it had been pointed out, it really did resemble a festival banquet.
I had been trying to design a formal ritual for a memorial service, but this magic was something I’d thrown together on a whim. It wasn't a proper religious rite, nor was it something particularly noble. I could visualize a boisterous party in a tavern much more easily than a solemn ceremony.
"In that case, some music might be the perfect touch."
I pulled my guitar out of my Item Box and checked the strings. I wasn't sure what kind of music the undead would prefer, so I lightly played a few songs I’d learned before to check the sound.
"Oh, that's a song from the Semroid Troupe, isn't it?" Sebas noted.
"Yes. I met them during the Founding Festival back in Gimul, and they were kind enough to teach me a few tunes."
If it was a song played during the height of that festival, it shouldn't be out of place here. Just as a person’s heart is naturally drawn to the sound of festival music, I used the melody to liven up the area and lure in undead from further away.
"Everyone, do you think it would be alright if I thinned out the Grave Slime defensive line a bit?"
When I asked, they told me it would be fine and even encouraged me to "go all out." Taking them at their word, I ordered all the Grave Slimes to Divide. I left about ten percent to keep the paths blocked, while the rest spread throughout the town along the main roads, using their Undead Attraction skill.
"They look quite beautiful when they're all lined up," Reinbach-sama mused.
Rows of faintly glowing Grave Slimes decorated the central staircase like guide lights. It was a bit too sparse to be called an illumination display, but since similar rows were forming on the other streets, they would serve as beacons for undead coming from the distance.
As if calling out that there was fun to be had here—along with delicious food and drink—I poured magical power into my guitar as I played. I found myself starting to enjoy it, too.
Concepts from my previous life, slime farming, alcohol from the Fatma Territory, songs from the Semroid Troupe... everything I had experienced in my life and travels was meshing together, coalescing into a new magical ritual. Even if it was still rough and experimental, it was taking shape. That process was fascinating. And if it could bring peace to someone else, I had no complaints.
Filled with a quiet sense of satisfaction, I watched over the undead as they departed one by one. Eventually, a brilliantly shining moon rose into the sky, and the gentle night wore on.