15. A New Undead Is Always Welcome

Yujin’s pupils trembled like aspen leaves.

To think the Martial-Mage trait would carry over.

Before the regression, it was a trait he’d never seen when he possessed Park Haneul into a Skeleton Knight.

A staggering unique trait.
Search the whole world over and you’d turn up only a handful this powerful.

Mana climbs on its own, so there’s no chance of stat allocation getting tangled, either.

Enter certain gates and you could change into a special job class the System didn’t offer.
Shin Junseok’s alchemist was one such case.
So was the Magic-Swordsman, a special Martial-line job uncovered a few years back.

It was a position where you mastered swordsmanship and magic at the same time.

At first, Hunters lined up to change into Magic-Swordsmen in such numbers that the gates started charging admission just to get in.
The only problem was that the bubble burst in under half a year.

“A half-baked dabbler that can’t handle close range OR long range.”
“No answer for stat allocation.”
“The perfect class for splitting your legs so wide you tear your own groin.”

Swordsmanship and magic.
Devote yourself to just one of them and mastery is already hard to come by.
To draw out a Magic-Swordsman’s full ability, you needed talent in both physical sense and mana manipulation.
And even if you fully mastered both fields, you still had to divide a limited pool of bonus stats, so you couldn’t help ending up mediocre.

With the Martial-Mage trait, it’s a different story.

Mana that grows on its own no matter which stat you invest in.
The Magic-Swordsman’s chronic weakness, the lack of stats, simply dissolved.

For a run-of-the-mill undead, the trait would mean little, true enough.

Necromancy was the art of raising the dead.
What room for growth could there possibly be in a corpse?
A higher undead like a Lich, a Death Knight, or a Banshee might be another matter. But all of those were monsters so powerful that, at his current level, Yujin couldn’t even dream of crafting them.

That’s how it used to be, anyway.

A growth option, added to the irregularly-made Eldritch Dragon.
With the Martial-Mage trait layered on top, the stat bonuses it gained would be staggering.

The growth option was my own doing… but to think even the Martial-Mage trait would carry straight over.

It meant the synchronization between Park Haneul and the Draconian corpse was that excellent.
After all, back before the regression, when he’d possessed the soul into a Skeleton Knight, the Martial-Mage trait had never been added.

The Kenek Combat Art — inherited from the Draconian.

An A-grade Martial-line skill.
Its proficiency sat at zero, since the technique wasn’t his own. But given his caliber, wouldn’t he pick it up in no time?

— What’s wrong, Mister Mourner?

Had he been staring in silence too long?
Park Haneul prodded Yujin out of his musings.

“The result came out different from what I expected.”

— What. Is there something wrong with me?

“The Martial-Mage trait carried over into that body. Seems it fits better than I thought.”

— Then that’s a good thing!

“Yeah.”

— Aigoo. Here I was tensing up, thinking something serious had happened.

— Hahh.

The three-meter dragonkin giant heaved a sigh of relief.
Already dead, his innards long since stilled, and yet here he was, breathing through sheer force of will.

Wants to feel alive, I suppose.

Among the dead, more than a few mimicked the way they were in life.
This was a side of Park Haneul he’d never seen in his past life.

Well.
Back when the soul had dwelled in the Skeleton Knight’s body, it had struggled even to project its will properly.

“How’s the body?”

— Serviceable. Not as good as before I died, but.

The height Park Haneul had reached in life was the 6th Stellar Rank.
A single rank’s difference was bigger than you’d think.

1st Rank: 5 bonus stats per level.
2nd Rank: 10 bonus stats per level.
3rd Rank: 15 bonus stats per level.
…

Additional stats that climbed in multiples of five.
The gap was wide enough on the numbers alone, and there was one more factor on top of that.

You can only climb to 3rd Rank by hunting monsters alone.

At 4th Rank and above, you had to attain an enlightenment in your field.
A Martial-line Hunter had to load intent onto the mana accumulated in the body and awaken an aura.
A Magic-line Hunter had to succeed at multi-layered computation.

And a Priest?

You settle it with money.

You just offered up a tribute that satisfied the Constellation you worshipped.
Filthy money-worship.
It was the reason the Priest job class got called the nobility.

And you’re the one mooching off me.

I’m only stating a fact.

Kronos was incomplete as a Constellation.
Yujin had managed to forge him into a half-baked one by exploiting every irregularity and gap in the “domain” rules, but it fell well short of calling him a proper Constellation.
When he hit a wall, he had no real sense of what condition he’d have to satisfy.

Well, no need to fret about it this early.

Compared to his past life, even his starting point was already different.
This was the Yujin who had stood at the very summit of Hunters without a fortuitous windfall like regression — who had felled even the Seven Star, the world’s most elite rankers.
His enlightenment was already fulfilled.
He was confident he could meet any reasonable condition.

“Let’s go. My minion.”

— I don’t much care for the word ‘minion.’

“Then should I call you by your real name?”

— A body rotted away without a single bone left. I’d rather bury the name from that time along with the rotted flesh.

“Fussy as ever.”

Yujin fiddled with his chin.
The Park Haneul of before the regression had been a man of few words.
Was it the result of moving their meeting up by several years, or was it something else?

Either way, it’s not a bad change.

Better to lay out your opinions freely than to say nothing at all.

— Hmm. A name imposing enough to crush a man’s spirit at the mere sound of it would be nice. But nothing comes to mind.

…No.
A little reticence might be just fine.

Then, all at once, a single name brushed across his mind.

“Fafnir.”

— A foreign name? It rolls off the tongue rather nicely!

“It’s a dragon out of Norse mythology.”

The wicked wyrm slain by the hero Siegfried.
Fortunately, Park Haneul seemed not to know the legend, and took to the dragon’s name with delight.

— Good. From now on, call me Fafnir. Heh heh heh!

The delight radiated off his will.
A thoroughly cheerful undead. Almost unsettlingly so.

“Ah. I should take this, too.”

Yujin approached the Orc chieftain, collapsed in a wretched heap.

The free space that had opened up when he released the Draconian corpse.
The Orc chieftain’s body had reached the tail end of the 2nd Rank, so with a little processing it could be made into a serviceable undead.
And he wasn’t about to leave the Orc corpses he’d harvested mana stones from untouched, either.

As bone and flesh separated, the corpses’ weight dropped sharply.

“You lot, gather up the corpses.”
“Gruaaah.”

The Armored Zombies picked up the bone-stripped Orc corpses.

“Let’s head back.”
“Yes, Boss.”

— Hold on. Isn’t it a bit too bare, walking around like this?

At Fafnir’s words, Yujin cocked his head, his look saying he didn’t follow.

“Bare how?”

— This body. It’s stark naked. Give me something to cover up with, at least.

“…”

Yujin stared a moment, as if the sight were unfamiliar to him, then pointed at the tent where the Orcs had lodged.

“If it bothers you, wrap that around yourself or something.”

— Rrrip!

The tent, torn apart by a brutish hand.
Fafnir wound the rag-like cloth around his waist.

Was that even his character to begin with?

Yujin pressed his temples hard with both hands.

Yujin’s party entered the borderlands checkpoint.

“A summon?”
“Never seen a summon like that, though.”
“More to the point — sniff, sniff — don’t you smell something strange?”

The Hunters lingering near the checkpoint watched the party with curious eyes.
Some of them pinched their noses shut against the stench of rotting flesh.

“So this is why you can’t keep zombies around for long, huh.”

Kang Minho, brow furrowed at the smell stinging his nose, forced a smile all the same.
Standing beside a pack of Armored Zombies, plugging his nose wasn’t enough.

“You’ll have to do the laundry a few times. The smell doesn’t come out easy.”
“I’d be better off washing it with Clean magic, honestly.”
“Wonder if there’s a service like that near the workshop.”

Clean was a common spell that used mana to clean garments. Naturally, you’d need help from a Magic-line Hunter.

“Haah. We’ll just have to look for one.”
“Or I’ve got to make a trip to Seoul myself, so you lot could take a rest, too.”
“Are you serious?”
“I’m not some sweatshop boss. I’ll give you a day off at least.”

— In that case, I’d also like to…

“His Minion-ship will kindly shut his mouth.”

— Now see here. I have a fine name — Fafnir.

“A walking corpse on the loose would get us reported.”

— Hmm. That would be a bit of a problem.

“If there’s someone you absolutely have to see, I’ll come along with you.”

— Hmph. There’s not a soul I’d care to greet, and when I swore myself to a dead body I buried my old ties along with it.

Park Haneul.
No. Fafnir and Yujin had one thing in common.
Both of them were orphans.
Fafnir had lost his parents in the Great Cataclysm.
Yujin had been cast aside the moment he first saw the light of this world, and that was the difference.

Either way, neither of us has a place to set our heart.

A story he’d heard in his past life.
There was no need to make a show of knowing it, so Yujin swallowed the thought down inside.

Yujin, Armored Zombies in tow, went to the alchemy workshop.

“Hey. What’s that smell?”

Shin Junseok, who’d come out grumbling, gave a start at the sight of the Armored Zombies.

“A zombie wearing armor!”

— Startled by a monster of this caliber. A fellow short on nerve.

Shin Junseok turned at Fafnir’s jab.
He stared for a moment, and then it came.

“Isn’t this the corpse you had soaking in the smelting fluid?!”

A scream, laced with admiration.

“Yeah. I found a soul to match the body out in the borderlands.”
“Here I went to all that trouble smelting the mana stones. Seeing it finished is something else.”

Shin Junseok approached Fafnir, eyes glittering.

— What is this pervert?

“A business partner. Don’t kill him even if he disgusts you.”

“Lord Yujin. Might I touch it just once? This is worth resear—”

— That settles it. I’ll have to kill him.

“Killing him is out. I’ll give you one arm, so let me research it!”

“Partner of mine. If you up and die on me for nothing, it’s my loss too, so ease off.”

Shin Junseok backed away, reluctant.

“Boss. We’ll head to Seoul to offload our goods while we’re at it.”
“Be back within two days at the latest.”
“Yes, sir.”

[the Scraps] team dispersed too.

After having the pack of Armored Zombies stack the Orc bones in one corner of the storehouse, he withdrew his spirit-power.

— Thud!

The pack of Armored Zombies toppled to the ground.

— This doesn’t feel like someone else’s problem.

“A higher undead like you, I can’t withdraw spirit-power from, so there’s no need to worry.”

— Is that true?

“Try applying the spirit-power dwelling in your body.”

Wearing a sour expression, Fafnir gazed inward, and after a moment parted his lips.

— It really is.

“A higher undead that’s built up a mental image, I can’t reclaim its energy as I please.”

— Then you can’t control the undead, can you.

“It’d be a problem if you underestimated my dominion.”

Yujin raised his index finger.

— Huh?

Fafnir’s leg lifted into the air, then slammed hard down into the ground.

— Kwang!

The earth caved into a crater from the great impact.

“I can put you to work without resorting to threats or the like, so don’t worry.”

— Just shy of a leash around the neck. A slave in all but name.

Leaving the grumbling Fafnir be, Yujin looked over the Orc bones laid out in the yard.

“Partner of mine.”
“What is it. Partner who doesn’t lift a finger to advance my alchemy.”

Shin Junseok came over readily enough, even as he aired his complaint.

“Break these bones down for me. And five hundred milliliters of that distilled blue herb, too.”
“I’m not some alchemy slave, or a machine. The moment I get to the workshop, it’s extortion and forced labor on top of it?”

He was a slave, though.
Unable to bring himself to say it out loud, Yujin slowly coaxed Shin Junseok along.

“I’ll show you something interesting.”
“Showing me something doesn’t make it research-worthy.”
“C’mon. This time you can do whatever you like with it.”
“…You serious?”
“Have I ever spoken out of both sides of my mouth?”
“Fine.”

Sighing all the while, Shin Junseok ground every last one of the Orc bones into powder as instructed.
Yujin, for his part, used Flesh Control to strip the bone and flesh from the Orc chieftain.

“Fafnir. Gather up the powder and massage it into the chieftain’s corpse.”

— Oho. Planning to craft an undead?

“The more fighting strength the better.”

In the instant the spirit-power was imbued into the bones, he hardened them further and pushed the Skeleton’s combat power up to its full hundred percent.

“And that’s not the end of it.”

The blue herb’s property was mana stabilization.
He poured the distilled, pressed extract over the heaped powder.

The mass clung to the Skeleton’s body.

The chieftain’s corpse swelled in bulk as it absorbed the powdered bone.
Only after it had grown to roughly Fafnir’s size did its growth stop.

The Orc chieftain’s arms broadened grotesquely.
A peculiar shape, as if shields had been mounted on both arms.

“I’ll be relying on you for a while.”

— Clack, clack!

Its jaws clashed together, and a strange sound rang out.