The following day.
After enjoying a leisurely breakfast, I tended the fire and continued testing my Undead Memorial Service Magic. I was still at it when Glen returned from his scouting trip. He came sprinting in to avoid the rot, pursued by a literal horde of humanoid and beastly undead.
"Welcome back," I called out. "How did it look out there?"
"I took a lap around the village walls. It’s just like you suspected—that castle-like manor in the center is the heart of the nest. The closer you get, the thicker the undead swarm. I thought there were a lot of them around here yesterday, but this makes our current spot look empty."
"There were really that many?"
"Yeah, more than I could count. From what I saw while I was running, the humanoid ones are actually out there hunting."
Glen explained that he had seen zombies and skeletons setting traps and bringing prey back to the manor. The kills were gathered in the square in front of the building, butchered, distributed, and eaten. Finally, the scraps were carried through the mansion gates, only to walk back out moments later as fresh undead.
Given the monster’s reported abilities, I had expected something like this, but it truly had become a "Town of Ghosts."
"I’ve heard of the Town of Ghosts, but I’ve never set foot in the place," Glen continued. "But the area around that manor felt like a proper city for the dead. Even the humanoid ones seemed… I don’t know, more human than the ones you usually run into."
"I noticed that on my end, too," I said. "I tried to lure them in for purification earlier, but some of the zombies and skeletons seemed to sense my intent and actively avoided the area."
Remily had once told me that some undead occasionally retain fragments of their past memories. Since the monster responsible for this mess doesn't just raise corpses but binds souls to the land as earthbound spirits, it made sense that many of them would retain strong echoes of their former lives. Though it likely didn’t go so far as them remaining truly human…
"We really have to deal with the source of all this," I noted.
"About that… that thing is bad news. I can't handle it," Glen admitted.
That was unexpected. To be honest, I was actually hoping Glen would sit the boss fight out, but I’d assumed he would be the type to charge in regardless. Sensing my surprise, he gave me an exasperated look.
"Hey, kid. You think I’m the type of idiot who just swings at anything that looks tough?"
"Aren't you?"
"Look, I’m not some coward who backs down just because an opponent is stronger than me, but I draw the line at enemies I can actually hit. 'Strong' comes in a lot of flavors. I’m a terrible match for guys who hide behind traps or spend the whole time running away. If I can't punch 'em, I can't win. The thing in that house is exactly that type."
He was right. The monster’s power was specialized in undead production and Dark Magic—specifically mental attacks that induced hallucinations. Its influence was so potent that it could even bypass magic tools designed to resist mental interference.
Equipment meant nothing; in fact, bringing a large group would only increase the risk of the hallucinations causing friendly fire. That was why the gods had insisted that a single person with inherent resistance—me—had a higher chance of success than an entire army.
Glen likely hadn't worked out the logistics of the magic involved, but he had instinctively sensed the danger.
"I wasn't born this strong," Glen added. "I've lost to plenty of humans in my time, and I know when to avoid a mess. Look, if you’re going in, I’m not gonna stop you, but don’t expect me to bail you out if it gets ugly."
"That’s fine. I have no intention of dying, and I wouldn't ask you to join me on a suicide mission."
"So you’re not even denying it’s a suicide mission… fine. What’s the plan?"
"First, we thin the herd as much as possible. I want to draw out as many undead as I can, both from the grounds and the interior. The fewer distractions I have when I face the boss, the better. Ecologically, the monster in that manor can't leave the building. If we cause enough of a ruckus outside or damage the walls, it’ll likely release its subordinates for self-defense."
"So we just crush them as they come out?"
"To an extent. But doing that manually would be inefficient, so I’m going to have my Grave Slimes do the heavy lifting."
I laid out the strategy: I would prepare a massive pit trap with Grave Slimes waiting at the bottom to harvest the undead en masse. We would act as the decoys to lead them in and ensure none escaped.
"I’ll handle the excavation. Glen, I just need you to run around and gather a crowd. If any try to break away, knock them back into the pit with your hammer. Just stay off the mansion grounds. That’s all."
"Simple enough. Oh, that reminds me. I saw some of those flowers you liked on the opposite side of the manor. The ones that make the expensive dye. What were they called again?"
"Hotel Rafflesia?"
"That’s the one! They were blooming so thick they were practically eating the outer wall. I sprinted right past them, but the flies that live in them started swarming the undead that were chasing me. Think we can use that?"
Gluttony Flies preying on the undead… I hadn't seen it myself, but since zombies were essentially just slow-moving piles of rotting meat, they were the perfect food source. The sheer abundance of "prey" was likely why the Hotel Rafflesia were thriving so aggressively.
I knew the boss could eventually resurrect its fallen minions, but there were simply too many to deal with at once. The Grave Slimes wouldn't be able to process the entire horde in one go anyway, so whittling them down through natural predators seemed like a solid opening move.
"Let’s do both, then. I’ll start on the Grave Slimes and the trap. Glen, why don't you try luring a group toward the Gluttony Flies’ territory?"
"You got it! But give me one of those barriers first. Having those things hit my face is annoying."
I cast a Thunder Attribute Barrier on him, and Glen took off without a second thought.
"I’ll be back by noon, regardless of how it goes! Have lunch ready!" he yelled back.
He certainly wasn't shy about asking for food. He had a high metabolism, but since he was putting in the work, I didn't mind. I’d been prepared to do this entire mission solo, so any help was a bonus.
"Now then, time to get to work."
I needed to find the right spot for the trap. Since it was a pit and I could lure the targets to it, the exact location wasn't critical, but somewhere closer to the source was preferable.
"Cutter Tornado!"
Accompanied by my Grave Slimes—who had merged into a single, massive entity—I left the safe zone and headed toward the village center. I was used to humanoid undead by now, but the Beast Zombies, especially the smaller ones, were a nuisance because they hid in the long grass.
I used Wind Magic to shred the weeds and the hidden monsters simultaneously. It occurred to me that despite this being Attack Magic, I’d mostly been using it as a high-powered lawnmower. Still, it was efficient, so I wasn't going to complain.
"There it is."
Beyond the clearing made by my whirlwind, I saw the old manor. In the foreground were the ruins of common houses and defensive fences, but the manor itself towered over them. The fact that the surrounding buildings were mostly collapsed made it easy to observe the main structure.
The manor was clearly a relic from when this place had been a primary base in the Sea of Trees. Circular towers—likely watchtowers—guarded the four corners, connected by thick, imposing walls. With few windows and a heavy stone silhouette, it looked more like a fortress or a prison than a home.
Oddly, that rugged building was surrounded by high metal fences with ornate decorations, the kind you’d see on a luxury estate. They were bolted into solid brick foundations.
But the most jarring thing was the grounds themselves. Unlike the ruined village and the overgrown fences, the mansion's yard was perfectly maintained. As I watched, a zombie emerged from the front door and began sweeping the path.
"So the servant undead are still keeping house…"
That confirmed it: these undead retained a significant portion of their past lives. I retreated a bit and chose a spot roughly halfway between the manor and my grandparents' home.
Once the location was set, the real work began. For this job, I called upon my regulars: Soil Slimes, Spider Slimes, Emperor Scavenger Slimes, and Huge Rock Slimes. I also requested help from a collective of Weed Slimes known as the "Huge Bush Slime."
The division of labor was straightforward:
Huge Bush Slime: Clear the initial vegetation and provide camouflage afterward. Soil Slimes + Me: Dig the hole using Slime Magic while clearing away roots and stones. Huge Rock Slimes: Consume the excavated stone and reinforce the walls with its own body. Emperor Scavenger Slimes: Provide general assistance and guard the perimeter. Spider Slimes: Help secure the final camouflage.
Once the work started, the giant slimes moved like heavy construction equipment.
The Huge Bush Slime, for example, could flatten its body to cover an area of twenty square meters, clearing it in an instant. It was basically a living, organic bulldozer.
My Slime Magic, combined with the Soil Slimes, dug through the earth faster than any backhoe or dump truck, and the Huge Rock Slime could create pillars and walls without a drop of concrete. In less than an hour, we had a square pit fifteen meters wide and four meters deep.
"I know I’m the one who designed it, but this is basically a basement," I muttered.
The power of these giant slimes was incredible. Reinhardt had mentioned building new roads and villages; if he used these slimes, he could slash construction times to nothing. Then again, doing things too fast might cause political or economic issues for public works, so I decided not to bring it up unless asked.
"Alright, final touches. Grave Slimes, get inside. Huge Rock, I need a central pillar that just reaches the surface."
The Spider Slimes spun a thick canopy of webbing between the edges of the pit and the central pillar. I had the Weed Slimes crawl over the web, then used the Emperor Scavenger's fertilizer and my own Wood Magic to force a thick layer of jungle weeds to grow from their bodies. Finally, a light dusting of dirt from the Soil Slimes made the trap invisible. Even I, the person who built it, couldn't pick it out by sight.
"It’s perfect. Almost too perfect. I’d better make a safe zone so I don't fall in myself."
I set up a series of Spider Slime silk lines between several nearby Heat-Radiating Trees and used excavated tree roots to build a sturdy platform. Spider silk is famously strong, and the slime variant was no different. I reinforced the root-base, added a roof, and camouflaged the whole thing with vines. I had a fully functional, hidden treehouse.
"The silk is shrinking a bit because of the humidity, but the structural integrity is fine."
The trap was designed so that the weight of an average undead would cause the camouflage to give way, dropping them into the pit. Smaller ones would be nudged in by the Huge Bush Slime. Now I just needed to lure them in… and I realized I had a new tool that might be perfect for the job.
"Come on out, Mimic Slime!"
My excitement was mounting as I summoned the Mimic Slime from my Dimension Home. It had grown considerably since we formed our contract, likely thanks to the variety of food I’d given it the night before.
"I’m glad you’re back to normal," I said, patting it. "Even though I was the one who sliced you in half when you attacked me."
The Mimic Slime was an omnivore, though it heavily preferred meat. I’d been feeding it the Raptor meat I’d harvested on the journey, along with some alligator and small game. It didn't seem picky about the species, provided it wasn't rotten. It flatly refused to eat anything undead.
Its diet seemed tied to its transformation. Based on my research, the Mimic Slime didn't just change its color; it "copied" whatever it ate. By consuming a piece of a target, it could replicate their form with terrifying accuracy. It wasn't just skin-deep, either—it reproduced bones and internal organs. It was less like a costume and more like biological cloning based on genetic memory. I wished I had more scientific knowledge to understand the process better, but it was what it was.
"Alright, can you turn into a Take Ostrich?"
The communication went through perfectly. Its body shifted and reshaped itself into the flightless, ostrich-like monster. It seemed that once it memorized a form, it didn't need to eat the target again to replicate it.
"Can you carry me on your back?"
The Mimic Slime knelt down to let me mount. Its back was warm and the feathers felt incredibly real. If I didn't know it was a slime, I never would have guessed.
"Walk a bit. Do you think you can run with me on you?"
It took a few light, bouncy steps. It was a bit cramped inside the treehouse, but it seemed capable of handling my weight. The only real issue was that I wasn't a trained rider. There was no saddle or stirrups, but just walking felt stable enough.
"Only one way to find out."
I used Space Magic to descend to the ground and climbed onto its back. I planned to do a light test run to my grandparents’ house and back. At least, that was the plan.
"Whoaaa!"
It was too fast.
Despite my weight, the Mimic Slime accelerated with explosive force the moment I gave the signal. The leg strength of a Take Ostrich was far beyond anything I’d anticipated.
I was covering ground dozens of times faster than I could on foot. The scenery blurred into a green smear, and the sensation was exactly like looking out the window of a Shinkansen—except my own body was the one hurtling through the air.
The soft feathers absorbed some of the vibration, but the G-force was intense. It felt like being on a roller coaster without a harness. One slip, and I was dead. I stopped trying to sit upright and simply clung to its neck for dear life.
We tore through the gloomy, dense jungle. What was normally a ten-minute walk took only moments, though the sheer terror of the speed made it feel much longer.
I was now absolutely certain that the Mimic Slime was the most efficient means of transportation I possessed.
I was also absolutely certain that I would never, ever use it to lure a horde of undead.
It was just too dangerous.