The Undead King of the Palace of Darkness

The Undead King of the Palace of Darkness – Chapter 10, Malice

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Translator: Wisteria

Editor: Silavin

 

I had underestimated the cunning mage. He was a man of caution. Well, I had lived in a very small world.

 

My only source of knowledge was the books. I had come across nothing about surveillance magic on there.

Well, putting aside whether or not that would make a difference now, I should have anticipated such an outcome. The magic used was evidently not necromancy, and there are no rules that forbid a necromancer from using other types of magic. In any case, I have no right to gripe about it.

 

The countless owls that appeared out of the magic circle were released out of the window, wherein they disappeared into the woods. The only silver lining was there were no owls let loose inside the mansion. However, even that bit of luck may not really be enough to help me out of this deadlock.

The Lord summoned Roux and barked out orders to the shivering slave.

 

“Roux. Feed the birds when they return. They are my familiars and also my eyes and ears. They are more diligent than you.”

 

“Y-yes. I under…stand, … master. Umm… err… what should I feed them…”

 

“Meat. Meat oozing with blood. Fresh, raw meat. No need to do anything special.”

 

Roux was still shivering but my mind was occupied with other matters.

 

His eyes and ears. Things just took a turn for the worse. I am not crafty enough to evade countless of Lord’s familiars and go on my nightly escapade.

The Skeleton Knights that patrolled the interior of the mansion were excellent guards that knew not the concept of exhaustion. However, they are incapable of reporting information regarding the movements of their fellow undead. They have no voice either.

 

But these owls are a different matter. Since he referred to them as his eyes and ears, I dare say everything they see and hear is promptly relayed to the Lord.

 

It is now… impossible to hunt at night given the current circumstances. It poses too much of a risk. The Lord is already in a state of alert.

 

The night hunt meant two things to me.

To accumulate energy in order to speed up the evolution process, and sustenance. The latter is the main problem now.

 

The evolution of the undead does not just mean an increase in strength. It also puts you at a disadvantage.

The advantages and disadvantages are like two sides of the same coin. Ghouls have better physical abilities than fleshmen and are superior to the latter in almost every way. But unlike fleshmen, ghouls need sustenance.

 

It is not just an option but a need.

 

Ghouls possess a strong appetite. That too the kind of hunger that can completely surpass reason, an intense need to feed.

 

I am afraid that is the primary reason for ghouls to attack humans and why they are referred to as such.

 

The hunger I felt at the beginning of the evolution process was hellish, the likes of which I had never experienced before.

A searing hunger, an urge that shook me to my very core. The only thought in my head being ‘I have to eat’. And anything or anybody, be the Lord, Roux or his undead, all would only look like a ‘meal’ to me.

 

Luck was the only reason I have been able to somehow suppress the urge until I could go out to hunt at night.

Barely, by just a fraction, the urge to survive overshadowed the hunger. Had I slipped up even a little, I am sure I would have transformed into a ghoul that was ruled by its appetite, never to place the need for survival above the need to feed.

 

A ghoul’s need for sustenance is not something that can be resisted through sheer will.

The time I could hold on for had reduced considerably. As far as I know, a ghoul could go on for about three days without a meal.

 

It is just a battle of wits from that point forward. I was able to hold on for half a day last time. I should be able to do the same for now.

But the fact that I have been pushed to this state is a defeat in itself.

 

The strength of a ghoul is inversely proportional to its hunger. The hungrier I feel the less powerful I will be.

I have no idea how weak I could become but I am sure there would be no time to dawdle.

 

As usual, I accompany the Lord to hunt. I do feel a little weak, but I should face no trouble with monsters that I have experienced hunting before. I also have the Lord helping me.

I suppress the hunger that is much like smoldering coal, and simply focus on following the Lord’s orders.

 

I slay the lumps of meat that appear before me. Kill and slay them. Scattered around are warm corpses dripping with blood. But I cannot lay my hands on them right now.

If the Lord were to ever realize that I had transformed into a ghoul with intellect, he would most certainly put stronger shackles on me. I am fortunate to not be more strongly bound at this stage.

 

I was at a loss as to what my next course of action should be. I had originally planned to hunt a lot, get stronger and attack the Lord in his sleep.

But the Lord’s been observing constant vigilance, now that he has been driven into a corner.

 

I use my machete to deflect the pebble that came flying at me, and slash across a monkey concealed in the trees.

Right now, my only hope is evolution. If I manage to evolve to the next stage, I should not be tormented by hunger. It would not be the solution to the root of my problem, but it would at least serve to buy time.

 

Can I even pull it off? It took me around three months to evolve into a ghoul. Much shorter than the time taken for a typical fleshman to evolve, which is from six months to one year. Normally, it takes a few years to move on to the next stage of evolution.

A miracle. I need a miracle.

 

I direct my thoughts away from my hunger and mercilessly mow down the pack of night wolves that had surrounded us. Thereupon, the Lord suddenly uttered in a skeptical voice.

 

“… End, you bastard, aren’t your movements sluggish?”

 

“…”

 

“What happened? You don’t appear… to be hurt.”

 

“…”

 

The Lord’s cloudy eyes inspect me as if he were checking the condition of a product.

I panicked for a moment, but seeing me silent, I suppose the Lord came to the conclusion that it had been all in his head. He ordered me to begin the search for the next prey.

 

… What tipped him off?

 

I felt some mild annoyance that I cannot quite describe. I mean if I calm down and think for a moment, I am currently fighting the monsters as well as my hunger.

It would not be unimaginable for the Lord to feel something off with the way I fought as he has been closely watching me from the start. I believed that I was moving as usual, but no matter what my movements seem to reveal my impatience

 

I simply brandish my blade without thought. Swing once. Swing again. The blood spurts and rather unexpectedly, a drop of it lands inside my mouth.

I have never had alcohol before, but I suppose what I feel right now is something akin to intoxication. I felt heat rise up from the depths of my belly and hit my throat which shook my resolve.

 

Not enough. Blood cannot satiate me. The hunger welling up inside me was unsettling and made me unsteady on my feet.

 

“What is it? End! What happened?”

 

Said the Lord in a sharp tone. It was evident that my movements lacked vigor.

 

A single drop of blood did not in the least satiate my hunger.

This will not do. Not yet. Hold it in. I cannot be found out. I need to survive this.

 

I have no particular purpose in life. Nor any reason. I just… wish to live. Even if I have to sacrifice anything and everything in order to achieve that.

 

I keep a blank face and take a deep breath. I override my extreme hunger with reason and endure a rising sense of irritation.

 

And thus, I was somehow able to direct suspicion away from myself and succeeded in finishing the hunt without further incident.

 

We returned to the mansion, and unusually enough, found Roux waiting for us.

 

There she stood in the dark, her face illuminated by the candlestick. A face that was dull and lifeless, but her usually dead eyes had a strange spark in them.

 

I felt a sense of foreboding. The Lord arrogantly crossed his arms and looked at her as if she were some kind of repulsive trash. Roux uttered in a hoarse voice.

 

“Mas–ter… Umm… I… have… found… proof… to substantiate… my claims…”

 

 

Hunger and survival were engaged in battle inside me. Even though I am not supposed to have any body heat, I felt a burning heat rise from within me.

I cannot afford to waste any time dealing with Roux right now.

 

The Lord, who barely had a lid on his anger and I, who was giving it my utmost to quell my hunger, were led to the cellar where I was usually stationed.

 

Just what does she mean to show the Lord? There is no actual evidence that I moved around in the morgue. The floor is made of stone and I was careful not to leave any traces of movement.

There is not much stuff in the room to begin with. Excluding some furniture, the shelves and the stone slab on which the corpses were placed. I made sure not to touch a single strand of the corpses since they belong to the Lord.

 

“Th-this way, Master…”

 

Once we reached the cellar, Roux made a beeline to the shelves, albeit unsteadily.

 

And I finally realized what it is that Roux had managed to find.

 

My face stiffened. The thought of hunger was driven away from my mind for just an instant.

 

Roux proceeded towards the second last drawer. The drawer that was originally empty, was now filled with dusty, reference books on undead that I had found in the Lord’s library.

I had stopped going to the library after Roux accused me earlier, so those were the books that I had brought to the morgue before then. A portion of books that I had hidden in order to peruse at a later time.

 

I had let my guard down since I had never seen the Lord or Roux ever come near the shelves.

I should have gotten rid of the evidence when I found out that she knew about my reading the books.

 

I am afraid that after having her accusation swept aside, Roux had spent all her free time searching for irrefutable evidence against me.

I never would have thought that she would go so far when she was always so dead on her feet. There really is no end to human malice.

 

Roux picked up an illustrated book from the pile and showed it to the puzzled Lord.

Roux and I are both slaves. We are both in the same position, and yet I wonder why she feels the need to harass me.

 

I could feel my fingers twitch a little. No. I will not move.

 

“Wh-what do you think, Master? There… were… no…books here before. It, this undead, brought over these books from the library!!! This guy is…”

 

Roux accused me with a shaky voice.

The Lord after taking the book that was presented to him, was silent for some time, as if lost in thought. He then spoke in a voice that felt like it was from the pits of hell itself.

 

“… So, where’s the proof that you didn’t bring these over here yourself?

 

“… What?”

 

I had won. The Lord’s trust in Roux had hit rock-bottom from the looks of it.

 

The Lord flung the book towards the floor.

Originally, these books were just sitting there, gathering dust in the library. I doubt he placed any value on them.

Roux looked at the Lord, completely at sea.

 

The Lord spoke calmly. It was not an emotional outburst and hence, one could tell that he was genuinely angry.

 

“You hopeless woman. I told you before. If you were to ever report any false information to me, then that would be the end of you. I employed you for so long, and this is how you choose to repay me.”

 

“B, but, I…”

 

“It has always occurred to me. That the collar that binds the slaves was flawed. That it should enforce absolute obedience, just like with the undead…”

 

The cold words hit a pale Roux who lay collapsed on the floor. The Lord pulled out a short staff from his belt with his right hand and his left hand caressed it, as he took a step closer towards her.

 

The tip of the staff glowed an eerie green. It was something I had seen several times before, the light that magically triggered the creation of an undead.

 

Roux’s stiffened and I could see her face filled with regret and dread. She could not gather her strength and lay weak, and just her eyes begged the Lord for mercy.

 

“F-forgive m…!”

 

“No. Don’t bother, Roux. You are going to be reborn as a diligent slave.”

 

Thoroughly overbearing, the Lord raised his staff up high. The wrinkles and anger etched on his face shone in the green light.

Might be because she was scared stiff, she did not even try to run away. And it looked like she had wet herself for a warm liquid spread onto the floor from where she sat.

 

I thanked her inside my mind.

 

It is here. The time has come.

The Lord is showing his back to me. He is completely focused on Roux.

 

I suppress my hunger and clench my teeth.

Automatically, the claws extend on both hands. Almost as if my body was imploring me to devour the prey.

 

I was convinced. It is now or never.

I shall kill the Lord, my lifesaver and my enemy. I am not at my full strength but I should still be able to kill one delicate human.

If I let this golden opportunity slip by, I would never get another chance.

 

I do not breathe. Nor does my heart beat. I am an undead. Stealth is one of the merits of being an undead.

 

It has been embedded into my body. The way to take a life. It was something the Lord had taught me.

 

The Lord is completely focused as he chants a few words of a spell. The staff is lowered on the pitiful slave who nobody would believe.

 

In a flash, I lunged at his defenseless head with all my might.

 



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