I'm used to counting. If I wanted, I could get a watch.

　But I already know Lord Horos' daily cycle, though I don't know the exact time.
　Or, to be more precise, I don't know the cycle, but I do know when Lord Horos comes to this room.

　Lord Horos usually comes to the morgue after dark. So far, no exceptions.

　If my count is correct, he always comes to the morgue once a day at dusk and takes me hunting in the woods at night.
　After that, the time he spends hunting varies, but he always returns to the house before dawn and puts me away in the morgue. At first, he was polite enough to lead me to the morgue to clean up the mess, but after a while, it became too much trouble to take me there, and he just ordered me to go back.

　He never comes here except during hunting hours.

　One of the few things I know about the undead is that they don't like sunlight. Perhaps that's why the Lord hunts only at night.
　We don't know what the Lord does during the day. But he's a great mage, but he's also human.
　Not like me, who doesn't need to sleep. Perhaps, while I'm not being used, he's getting the sleep I no longer need, eating, and defecating.

　As far as I could observe, there seemed to be only two living people in this large house, including Lord.
　Lord was the one who needed to be especially vigilant. Both of them needed to be careful, but if they moved carefully, they would definitely be able to fool the eye.

　Gently and cautiously, I left the morgue and looked at the top of the stairs.

　There is almost no light in the house, except in the rooms. The few windows that do exist are all blocked with wooden boards, and there is very little light coming in from the outside, but everything looks as clear as daylight to my eyes now.

　There are many blind spots in the house, so if I proceed carefully, I shouldn't have to worry about being spotted.

　I told myself, clasping my palms and concentrating my mind.

　Now that I'm in this body, I realize how noisy the body was before I was born.
　The beating of my heart. The sound of breathing. It's strange to feel the body of a corpse without those sounds, but my sense of hearing, sight, and smell are much more acute than before.
　If you pay close attention, you can even hear the sound of their breathing.

　Then, I took a deep breath as I used to do in the past, made up my mind, and took the first step toward true freedom.

§§


　I cautiously explore the house shrouded in darkness.
　My goal was to find the study or the library, or whatever it was where I could find the information about my current condition.

　Fortunately, I can read. Reading was the only thing that I enjoyed when I was bedridden.
　The only language I could read was Latsis, the official language of the country I lived in, but that was also the language Lord used, so it shouldn't be a problem.

　Anyway, I would like to have any kind of information.

　For now, I decided to check from a place far away from the laboratory-like room where Lord was always staying.

　Unlike the mansion I remembered living in before my death, this mansion was devoid of unnecessary decorations. There were no carpets laid out, no flowers arranged. This alone gave the room a somewhat inorganic impression.
　There is nothing to absorb sound, so if you are not careful, your footsteps might be heard.

　However, this should not be a problem. The other footsteps will blend in with the ...... sound.

　If you close your eyes, you can hear the echoes of hard, regular footsteps. And it's not just one.
　The Lord and one other living person are the only ones who live in this house, but that's not the only ones.

　This house is guarded by countless guards. Guards of the dead, too.

　This was Lord Horos' castle. The castle of the dead king.

　The dead guard's footsteps are regular and they don't try to hide them, so you can see them clearly from a distance. They come from in front and behind.

　You can't run away from them. I move to the end of the corridor, crouch down, and brace myself.

　I'm not in a hurry. I just wait for the right moment, ready to run at any moment.

　Just as I had expected, a human skeleton appeared out of the darkness, stained lightly by the darkness. What made it different from an ordinary human bone was that it was clad in light armor that covered only the vital points, and that it was wearing a sword. And it had no brain or heart, but it was moving.
　The armor rubbed against the bones, making a slight clacking sound. Two of them were walking down the corridor, side by side, as if they were blocking the corridor.

　The sight of them moving without blood, flesh, or heart was so unnatural and abhorrent that if I had suddenly encountered them when I was still alive, my heart would have stopped in shock.
　It was an undead creature called a skeleton in fairy tales. Armed with a sword, shield, and armor, I would call it a skeleton knight.

　Over the past week or so, I've encountered skeleton knights many times as I've followed Lord's hunts.

　The skeleton knight, despite his bony appearance, was agile and skilled in swordsmanship, and although I was superior in strength and weight, he was an opponent that I was currently unable to deal with.
　Even if there was no pain, physical damage would inevitably slow down his movements. I might be able to handle one of them, but two of them at the same time would tear me to pieces and that would be the end.
　Even if a miracle were to happen and you could defeat them both, it would not be enough. The evil mage's mansion is well guarded against outside enemies.

　It's almost impossible to move through the corridors without being seen by the numerous skeleton knights that are always on the prowl. They don't get tired and they don't sleep as much as I do.

　But if I'm right, don't worry. I was destined to find out sooner or later.

　The skeletal knight paused and quickly moved his head to look down at me.

　His body stops moving as if he were shrinking. One second felt like ten or a hundred.

　The skeletal knight stares at me with his empty eye sockets, but quickly turns away as if he's lost interest - and starts moving again.

　I let out a breath of relief out of habit and let my body stiffen.

　I knew I wouldn't be attacked.


　It's not that the skeleton knights couldn't see me. More simply, they were ordered not to attack me, a fellow undead.

　When I first met the skeleton knight, the Lord had ordered him to attack me with his sword. And ever since then, they have been obeying that order.

　I don't know if the skeletal knights have intelligence like me, but from their behavior, they didn't seem to have any will. Considering that they attacked me despite the fact that the Lord was with me, I guess they are like puppets that faithfully follow the Lord's orders.

　One of the advantages I have in Lord's mansion is that I am, ironically, his undead.

　Therefore, I can't be attacked by the Lord's men. The only people I have to watch out for are those who are definitely intelligent - the Lord himself and another living person, and only the Lord himself is deadly if found.

　If the Lord finds out that I'm walking around on my own, he'll realize that I'm not giving him enough orders.
　If that happens, he will kill me, or at the very least, add an order to stop me from walking around on my own. I have to avoid that for the future.

　One hurdle passed. I slowly stood up and checked again to see if there was any sign of Lord nearby.
　Then I put my hand on the nearest door for now.


§.


　One by one, I carefully opened the door and checked inside.
　Fortunately, it seemed that the doors were basically unlocked. He knew that Lord's laboratory was the only one he locked every day when he went out hunting, but other than that, he didn't seem to care about it.
　There is a keyhole, but it is not locked, and it opens easily by turning the knob. Come to think of it, the door to the basement also has a keyhole, but it has never been locked.

　Perhaps this is because the Lord is the undisputed and absolute ruler of this mansion.
　There is no one in this house who would dare to defy Khoros Kamen. Everyone who lives in the house, dead or alive, is a servant of the Lord. There is basically no need for a key.

　Forbidden necromancers have many enemies, but the skeletal knights are in charge of dealing with external enemies.
　Although the exact number of skeleton knights is not known, there are probably dozens of them patrolling the house. The skeleton knights patrol in pairs, and their security seems a bit excessive.

　I don't have any lock-picking skills. If the door had been locked, I would have had to think of a countermeasure. Fortunately.

　Apparently, many of the rooms are unused.
　The undead don't use rooms. The house must be too big for just two people. Although it was not a two-story building, the mansion was of a certain size as far as I could tell from the outside.

　Most of the rooms were covered with dust. Most of the rooms were fully furnished, but there was no sign of life. It seemed that the rooms had not been cleaned, and when I traced the edges with my finger, I could see a thin layer of dust.

　Apparently, the servant did not clean the room. Well, it must be difficult for a single person to maintain this large house. Perhaps he is only cleaning the rooms he uses.

　Pushing down the frustration of not finding anything, I continued my search.
　We're moving away from Lord's lab, across the basement. It's unlikely that he would come to the edge of the house, but we can't be too careful.

　Is it more likely that there is some kind of library or study near Lord's laboratory?
　This thought occurred to me and I stopped. If I were in Lord's position, I would build a library near my room, where I could easily get to it.

　But if I walked near his lab, there was a possibility that Lord would find out.
　There is no bed in Lord's lab. No matter how evil a mage he is, he wouldn't sleep on the floor. He would move from room to room.
　If you happen to run into him, that's the end of the line. A mistake means death or loss of freedom. The last thing you want to risk is .......

　After a few minutes of walking, despite my fears, I easily found a room with bookshelves at the end of the corridor.

　The room was two times larger than the ones I had seen before, lined with huge bookshelves and filled with the smell of old paper.
　The room was quiet and unoccupied. The bookshelves were packed tightly with thick books, and even so, there were piles of books here and there because there was not enough space.

　I traced the edges of the bookshelves with my fingertips, but unlike the rooms I had seen so far, there was no dust on them. The servants must have come to clean the room regularly. I can't stay long.

　I have been fond of books since before my death. I did not have time to read just before I died, but for a long time, books were my only friend.
　I skim the spine of the bookshelf, feeling a little buoyant. And I couldn't help but scowl.

　Unexpectedly, most of the books on the shelves were written in a language different from the Latis I knew.
　I wondered if it was some kind of magic book. Or is it some kind of code that only necromancers can understand? I don't even know what language it was written in.

　I felt a little depressed, but I quickly regained my composure.
　Of course, I don't have time to read all the books here. In fact, it would be better than having too many choices.
　I check the spines briefly. Then I spotted a book written in the language of Lattis.

　An old book. The title is "The History and Perils of the Abominable Immortals".

　I struggled to get it out of the tightly packed bookshelf and flipped through the pages.

　The first thing that came to my attention was a line of text.

"The undead are a curse. A soul invaded by a necromancer is a prisoner of pain for all eternity, and can only be freed with the end of a holy work.

　My lips twisted into a smile at the unexpected sentence. I felt as if I had heard a black joke.



　If the undead are a curse, if my soul is a prisoner of pain at this very moment, then what was I before I was born that was more painful than now?

　That pain, the intense pain and agony that constantly torments my whole body, can only be understood by those who have experienced it.
　Those days when I was in so much pain that I was not even allowed to sleep. The number of visits to the hospital was decreasing day by day. The look of resignation on the face of the white magician in charge of the treatment, the feeling of helplessness to do anything despite knowing that death was imminent.

　How can those who are blessed understand the hardships of those who are not?

　I can't stand to have my free will taken away from me, but I'm not despairing over being turned into an undead.

　If I had known in life that becoming undead would free me from suffering, I would have chosen that option without hesitation.

　Of course, I hold no grudge against the Lord, Horus Karmen. Even if it was the result of an abomination of a trick.

　This book is not helpful.
　I closed the book, forced it into the space between the books, and decided to look for a book that would be more helpful.