Noon.
"So it finally came to that, huh?"
Glen had returned for lunch, and his gaze followed the Mimic Slime as it sprinted through the underbrush, leading a swarm of undead in its wake.
"Unfortunately, I’d only be a hindrance if I tried to ride it right now," I explained. "That Mimic Slime originally lived in this Sea of Trees. I concluded it was more efficient and safer to let it run solo, taking full advantage of the leg strength of the Take Ostrich it’s mimicking. Besides, the undead are more attracted to the slime than they are to me. The humanoids hunt it like prey, and the Beast Zombies—the Raptors especially—are completely hooked once it uses the Take Ostrich’s pheromones."
"Hah... well, I’m not complaining. It means I can actually sit down and enjoy a proper lunch."
"I managed to automate the whole process by leaving the traps and the luring to the slimes."
Since I had some extra time, I had put a bit more effort into the meal. I wondered if yesterday’s fried chicken could have used more seasoning, so today I prepared Tatsuta-age sandwiches—heavily seasoned with plenty of garlic—on freshly baked soft bread with crisp greens. I served them with a side of French fries.
I thought he might grow tired of fried food two days in a row, so I’d also made egg and potato salad sandwiches, but Glen didn't seem to care. He ate with his usual hearty appetite, making the food vanish from the plates in no time.
I finished my own meal while watching him. Just as we were wrapping up, I noticed something.
"Ah."
"What's up?"
"The Mimic Slime is being chased by living Raptors. It must have accidentally caught them in the pheromone trail while drawing the undead in. They're heading this way."
"Good. I could use a little exercise to help digest all that."
We reached an agreement instantly and prepared to intercept.
"I see them!"
"Confirmed. I’ll separate the undead from the living. Holy Flame Carpet!"
As the Mimic Slime dashed past us, I unleashed the spell. Flames infused with light-attribute mana spread thin and wide across the ground like a shimmering rug of red and gold.
The enemy pack, driven into a frenzy by the pheromones, didn't even try to retreat or evade. They sprinted straight through the fire. Since I had prioritized range over raw power, the living creatures took minimal damage.
However, it was a different story for the zombified Raptors mixed in with them. The light-attribute mana dealt fatal damage to the legs they relied on to run, causing them to collapse. They were swallowed by the flames and purified instantly. In the end, only the living Raptors emerged from the fire.
From there, it was a simple matter of finishing them off.
"ORA!"
Normally, a direct charge from an enraged beast would be dangerous, but for Glen, it was the easiest possible scenario. He swung his Adamantite hammer, and the Raptors rushing toward him were sent flying in a single mass.
I took out the few that managed to avoid the initial strike using magic and my katana. By dividing our efforts, we wiped out the pack in less than a minute.
"Alright, that’s that. By the way, is that fire okay to leave?"
"It should be fine," I replied. "It’s humid here, and the fire only flared up because I used magic to spread it. It won't travel far naturally. Even if it did, the daily squalls will put it out soon enough."
In my original plan, I was going to handle the cleanup alone. Naturally, that meant planning for every contingency, including the environmental impact of my spells. Any damage to the surrounding forest would be negligible.
"Anyway, it seems we've cleared out the local undead faster than I expected."
"Hmm? Now that you mention it, the village was crawling with the things when we arrived. I guess the living Raptors moved in because the population dropped."
"I told the Mimic Slime to stay inside the outer walls, so that’s likely the case. I thought we’d need at least a day to thin their numbers, but we might be able to hit the central manor this afternoon."
"If we can wrap this up early, even better."
And so, we decided to push toward the manor. As we moved, the number of undead encounters dropped significantly.
"I guess zero was asking too much, though."
"Even so, I don't see any more Beast Zombies. These are likely the undead villagers—the non-combatants who don't go out to hunt."
I pointed toward one of the many ruined buildings surrounding the manor. It might have been a blacksmith's house or a workshop. Inside the half-collapsed structure, a Skeleton was silently swinging a hammer over and over again.
In another building, a Zombie sat at a broken loom, going through the rhythmic motions of weaving cloth. They were trapped in the routines of their past lives, even in death.
"Since fighting wasn't their job, they don't even bother attacking. I guess that's why they didn't follow the decoy."
"We’ll leave the village cleanup to the slimes. The Grave Slimes we brought from the trap will handle the undead without an issue. If we leave the Emperor Scavenger with them, they’ll be safe even if other monsters wander in."
"And if the undead run for the hills, even better. They’ll be out of our hair."
We approached the manor boldly, and just as I suspected, we met no resistance. The former villagers seemed to perceive us—or the slimes—as threats; as soon as we got close, they fled toward the manor.
If anything, the road itself was the bigger problem. There were traces of the undead trying to maintain it, but it was a drop in the ocean. The path was overgrown, obstructed by sandbag walls and rusted metal fences hidden in the tall grass.
Some of the fleeing undead actually got snagged on these obstacles and fell behind, which seemed like they were sabotaging their own escape. I simply had the Grave Slimes absorb them as we pushed through.
"You know, watching them run makes me feel like some kidnapper attacking a village," Glen remarked.
"I was thinking the same thing. To them, that’s probably exactly what we are. If they haven't realized they're dead, then a bunch of strangers have invaded their village, chased them down, and thrown them into a prison—which happens to be a slime."
Voicing it gave me a twinge of guilt, but it wasn't much different from a standard hunt or a subjugation quest. Besides, this was a form of burial. Talking like this, we eventually arrived at the manor’s gate. It was protected by a metal fence and a heavy, double-leafed gate intended to keep out intruders and beasts alike.
"Alright. Hit it as hard as you can, anywhere you like."
"You got it!"
Glen didn't hesitate. He swung his hammer back, and a jarring metallic boom echoed through the ruins.
"Tch, is it one of those?"
Glen grumbled over the ringing of metal. I couldn't blame him. Despite a blow that would have left a crater in the trunk of a Heat-Radiating Tree, the gate was barely dented. What’s more, the damage vanished an instant later, as if time were rewinding.
"UAAOOOOOH!"
"Finally, a reaction."
"I hit that thing with enough force to smash it to splinters, too."
A chorus of groans rose from within the manor, and the sound of frantic banging echoed from every window. It felt as if the entire building was screaming and shaking. A few seconds later, a horde of armed undead poured out.
Most were clearly corpses—Zombies and Skeletons equipped with crude spears or bows. However, mixed among them were high-tier Ghouls and beings that looked indistinguishable from living humans.
"So it is you! The villains who prey upon the villagers and strike our gates with such insolence!"
"What’d you say, you punk!?"
"I suspected as much, but they certainly speak clearly..."
An undead dressed in noble's armor shouted from the steps. I had seen undead in the Town of Ghosts who muttered specific phrases like a delirium, but this was the first time I’d encountered one that spoke so lucidly. They looked almost alive. But if their souls were truly bound to this land, I suppose that made sense.
Still, they were undeniably undead.
"I am Baron Destria—Ars Destria! I lead the Sea of Trees Development Group by royal decree! This manor is the most vital base for our reclamation efforts! Do you commit these outrages knowing that an attack here constitutes treason against His Majesty the King!?"
"How dare you invade my village! I'll make you regret this!"
"Why do you do such things!? God grieves at your barbarity!"
The ones who looked human spoke clearly, but their words were incoherent and contradictory. It didn't seem like they were being mind-controlled; rather, they were trapped in their own delusions.
"They're spouting a lot of nonsense. What's the call?"
"No change to the plan. We’ll provoke them with moderate attacks until they all come outside. Holy Flame Carpet!"
I answered with a burst of fire. Baron Destria raised his shield to block it. The weaker undead suffered from the heat alone, but the spell’s effect seemed to weaken the more human the target appeared.
Using their cries of pain as a signal, arrows and spells rained down from the manor windows. I took cover behind the Emperor Scavenger to wait it out.
"Hey! Don't forget about me!"
Glen sprinted along the fence, banging his hammer against the metal to taunt them. The undead tried to stab him through the bars with their spears, but they couldn't keep up with his speed and were crushed by his counterattacks.
"Flash Bomb!"
"Ora ora ora ora! Stop hiding like cowards and come out here! Are you scared!?"
I was also technically hiding behind a slime and sniping them, but... whatever. I wasn't going to do anything reckless until the moment was right. Safety first.
After we had laid siege to the manor for a while, the gates finally swung wide.
"Finally! Took you long enough!"
Undead surged out of the opening, but once they were in the open, the fight was ours. Glen mowed them down with his hammer, while the Emperor Scavenger used its massive bulk to flatten the army. The Grave Slimes moved in behind us, capturing the undead that were left incapacitated.
About ten minutes later, the flow of enemies stopped.
"Hey, Ryoma. Looks like an invitation."
As Glen spoke, he knocked back a cluster of enemies. The manor gates remained open, and no more undead emerged. It was an obvious trap, but it was also our chance.
"I was planning to go inside anyway. I’m heading in. If everything goes well, I should be back before sunset. If I’m not out by noon tomorrow at the latest, assume the worst."
"We won't be able to fix this place unless someone kills the root of the problem inside. Leave the rest to me."
Leaving the outside to Glen and the slimes, I passed through the gates and the front door, stepping into the entrance hall. As soon as I crossed the threshold, the doors slammed shut behind me and the bolt slid into place. I glanced back at the door for a second, feeling like I was in a cliché horror movie, before turning back around.
"Ugh... so this is the hallucination."
I was genuinely taken aback.
I had stepped into a manor—a rugged, sturdy building that showed its age. I should have been looking at a grand entrance hall with a staircase leading up and corridors stretching to the sides.
But that was gone. There wasn't a trace of it.
Instead, I saw a narrow, murky sky. Paved asphalt roads were lined with rows of towering office buildings. People in business suits with exhausted expressions hurried past, and Japanese signs and billboards were visible at every turn.
It was a sight that felt both heartbreakingly nostalgic and yet something I had hoped never to see again—the streets of Japan where I, Ryoma Takebayashi, had once lived.