Chapter 2: 2 The First Episode: The Living

End, follow me.

Lord gave a short order and left the lab-like room. I followed silently.

My body moves. My hands, my feet, they move as I want them to. I wondered how long it had been since I had walked properly.

It was a strange feeling to have a body without pain. There was something unreal about it. ...... It was as if I was dreaming.

As you leave the room, Lord suddenly stops and looks back at me. His golden eyes look at me as if he can see through me.

"Hmmm ......, it seems you can understand me. If you can't communicate with verbal commands, you can't talk.

"......

You can't understand ...... verbal commands?

I don't know what you're talking about. But I remember that right after I regained consciousness, my body moved in favor of Lord's words rather than my thoughts.

That was-- that was bad. There was no room for disobedience. It's a deadly sensation that I instantly understand, even if I don't understand the situation.

I've heard that necromancers can control the living at will. I'm as good as a puppet to Lord. 　

Lord nods to me in silence, as if satisfied for some reason, and starts walking again. I follow him.

Outside the room was a corridor not so different from the one I used to live in. There are no lights, and it feels strangely oppressive.

To be honest, I don't know what's going on.

Why did I have to be resurrected, where am I, and what am I supposed to do? I don't know why, I don't know how, and I don't know what the future holds. You didn't save me from my pain, did you?

But there's one thing I do know.

The thing to do now is not to question the lord or to run. We need to figure out what's going on.

Luckily, I'm good at thinking. When I was alive, moaning in pain in bed and fighting death, all I was allowed to do was think.

Now I'm not much different from that situation, but I feel better than I did back then, just because I don't have pain.

After a few minutes of following the road, I descended the stone stairs and arrived at the basement. Opening a large metal door, Lord entered.

It was a large room that did not look like a basement.

He almost shouted, but swallowed just in time. There, lined up in a row, were countless corpses. They were lying on several evenly spaced stone platforms. Unlike me, there was no sign of movement.

I've never seen a dead body before. Perhaps I should have been afraid, but for some reason I was surprised but not terrified.

"Stay in this room until I give the order.

The Lord let out a white breath from his mouth, looked at me coldly, and gave me a short order.

§§

The sound of Lord's footsteps receded into the distance. It took a while for them to disappear completely, and then I started to move.

The first thing I did was to check my body movements. I stretch my arms wide and let my legs dangle.

There was no trace of the pain that had tormented me for years. Swinging my arms, moving my head, stretching my back, jumping up and down is incredibly comfortable. It was like a dream.

I wanted to laugh, but I kept it to myself and smirked. We're underground. I don't think Lord will come back if I make some noise, but I don't know anything. I'd better be careful.

The room Lord left me in looked like a morgue. No, not a mortuary but a necromancer's storehouse.

There were about five genuine human corpses on the table. They range in age from mid-teens to thirties, and are mostly male. They are neatly clothed and undamaged in appearance, but their faces are lifeless.

When I first entered the room, I was surprised, but after a while, I could not say anything. I was half a corpse when I was alive, and I actually (probably) died once.

Maybe some of them will become my colleagues. I can't help but think such a trivial thought.

The mortuary was a simple structure. There was only one door, and apart from the table on which the corpses were placed, the only furniture was a large shelf near the wall. The surrounding walls seemed to be made of stone, and when I tapped them lightly, a hard feeling returned.

I decide to inspect the shelves, thinking that my room is apparently more comfortable than yours.

I need some information right now.

I carefully open the drawer. It's not locked.

Apparently, Lord Horos does not expect the dead in this room to move freely.

"............

The first drawer, opened with great enthusiasm, was empty. The second and third drawers were also empty. The fourth contained some unidentifiable fang-like objects, but they were useless in explaining the current situation.

The fifth was also empty, and the sixth contained about a dozen bottles of liquid. The seventh drawer was also empty. Disappointed, he opened the last drawer and his eyes widened in surprise at what he found inside.

There's some good stuff here: ......

I shouted. The hushed voice echoes through the quiet room of the dead.

Come to think of it, it's been a while since I've shouted. And it doesn't hurt to speak out.

No pain is wonderful. Feeling like humming, I took out the object that was inside.

Inside was a square mirror. Wiping the cloudy surface with my clothes, I looked inside.

What I saw was myself, just as I remembered.

Thin features, skinny cheeks, sunken eyes, and only the haircut has been adjusted from the shaggy one I remember.

It was probably done after my death to make me look better, thank goodness.

I looked at the mirror for a moment, deeply moved, and then carefully put it back in the drawer.

I knew it was me. Too bad I couldn't find anything else good, but that was enough for now.

I check the morgue around and finally head for the only door in the room.

Lord hadn't locked the door when he left the room. I'm sure of it because I listened carefully.

He quietly makes his way to the door, trying not to make a sound.

We don't know the structure of the house. We don't know the situation. But there's too much information in this room.

I don't know-- I don't know anything. I want to know about this place and necromancy. I want to know what I've become.

Unlike in life, I have a body that moves freely.

A necromancer is an evil being. I'm not sure I trust them. Then we should do what we can.

I grasped the brass knob and turned it slowly, careful not to make a sound.

Despite my nervousness, the knob turned easily. The door seemed to be unlocked after all.

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Putting my ear to the door, I slowly opened the metal door. There was no sound. Not even the sound of my own heart or blood flowing, just complete silence.

Relieved, you gently push the door to see what's going on outside.

"............?

The door is almost open. There is a gap of only a few millimeters. But no matter how hard you push, it won't open any further.

A hard ......?　A key?　No, no. It's not locked, and there's no sign of anything holding it in place.

Press with the palm of your hand. Push with your whole body. I try to push.

And then I realized.

It was as if lightning had struck my brain. My legs lose strength and I sit down on the floor.

The door is made of metal. It must weigh a certain amount. But it's not about the weight. It's not about the weight.

Once again, you gently place your hand on the door, which already has a gap of a few millimeters. Then, after shaking once, I made up my mind and pushed the door with all my strength.

I thought I had pushed it.

My hand didn't move a muscle. No matter how hard I pushed, it didn't go any further.

The Lord's words as he left came back to me.

"Stay in this room until I give you an order.

Yes. Perhaps it's not "hard". It's that I'm not pushing.

My body is giving priority to the Lord's orders over my will. Just like when I obeyed his orders and knelt down right after I woke up.

Something cold runs down my spine. I can't think straight. With trembling hands, I desperately push the door, but despite my emotions, my body just won't move.

I thought I understood. I thought I understood, but I guess it was just a "thought.

My eyes widen and my shoulders shake. The emotion that welled up in my chest wasn't fear or astonishment.

It was anger. It's been a long time since I've felt such an intense emotion. That's when I first learned that when a person is angry, their expression becomes intense.

We don't scream out loud. I don't lose my temper. I just keep it to myself.

I thought I was free. I was so happy to have a body that could fly and jump and not hurt. I thought I could do anything with this body that could move normally.

But I'm not. I haven't changed at all. Better than I was?　Not at all.

Before I was born, I was in constant pain all over my body, I had no strength in my hands or legs, and I could only concentrate on my thoughts as if to disguise the pain. No, I couldn't even concentrate on that properly.

But at least I wasn't losing control of my body to someone else.

It's okay to listen to instructions. The Lord saved my life in a way. I'm willing to help him even if he's a wicked sorcerer.

But this is unacceptable.

I don't know what Lord Horos was thinking when he resurrected me, but I can't allow him to take control of my life.

It was a surprisingly passionate feeling even for me. Apparently, I didn't want to die, even though I was prepared to do so.

And now I don't want to give up the second life I was lucky enough to have.

Yes. No matter what it takes.

I try to take a deep breath, and then I realize I'm not breathing. I put my hand on my chest, but I can't feel my heart beating.

What an idiot. Finally, I realized that I had become an unforgivable person.

My body moves. No pain. But I'm not alive. It's just moving.

Come to think of it, Lord's breath was white when he came in here. There's no sign of decomposition on the bodies. Yes, it must be cold here. But I don't feel the cold. Part of my senses are gone.

To begin with, the room has no windows and no light, but I can see the situation clearly.

I've--I've changed. Maybe that's why I don't feel fear in this situation with the dead bodies.

I think about this for a moment, but then I shake my head.

Good. I'm conscious. I can think. I'm--I'm here. I can experience the life I've longed for so much.

I was an invalid. For many years, I couldn't even stand up from my sickbed, and all I could do was endure the unexplained pain that tormented my whole body. It's just that I've become a 'living dead'.

Then you should accept it. Even if I become a part of the darkness, it's nothing compared to ending my life without finding any meaning.

I stood up, stared at the slightly ajar door, and quietly closed it. The door, which had been so immobile, easily returned to its place of origin.

I wasn't surprised. It was the Lord's command, after all. Is it the prerogative of the one who conjured the dead to force me to do more than I'm willing to do?

But there must be a hole. There must be.

The Lord was the first to say it. "If you can't take verbal orders, you can't talk. Which meant there was a chance that the dead I evoked, like me, wouldn't understand verbal commands.

Survive at all costs. Gather information. Information that would somehow help me escape the Lord's control.

I know too little. Not about necromancy, not about this house, not even about my changed self.

Now is the time to gather information. Endure patiently and sharpen your fangs.

Waiting was my second best skill after thinking. Perhaps there was a point in my life when all I did was endure, as it would come in handy in the future.

Steeling myself, I stood at the spot where Lord had released me and stared ahead.

I stopped my body and counted in my head.

I didn't feel sleepy, tired, or hungry. I didn't need to close my eyelids to keep my eyes dry.

I just stared at my eyes and counted without any emotion. Pretending to be a mere corpse, just like the dead people around him.

§.

The next time Lord came into the room was when he had counted a little over twenty thousand.

Dressed in a long, jet-black robe, he looked at me, who hadn't changed much since I left the room, and offered me something.

Take it.

The thing he held out to me was a large machete, about a meter long. The wide, dull blade had blood caked on the surface, but it seemed to shine strangely.

I took it as I was told. The weight was so heavy that it seemed to take his entire body, and he wavered.

The Lord looks at me as he re-holds the machete in both hands, and sniffs. Apparently, he doesn't feel any different.

I'm going for a test drive. Follow me.

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