Undead Knight Lambert

For over four hundred years, war had raged across western Wolimia.

This conflict, later known as the Unification War of Eight Nations, shifted dramatically when the Regios Kingdom brought two nations under its control, escalating the fighting to unprecedented levels of brutality. Eventually, what had once been eight small countries in western Wolimia was reduced to just two: the Regios Kingdom and the Maculas Kingdom.

One day near the war's end, General Lambert of the Regios Kingdom left the camp alone to gaze up at the night sky.

Lambert. What brings you out for a midnight stroll?

When Lambert turned around, he saw Gryff, another general of the Regios Kingdom.

Though Lambert was now beloved throughout the Regios Kingdom as a great hero, he had once been nothing more than a farmer. Gryff had protected Lambert during his meteoric rise from peasant to general, shielding him from the nobility's disdain, and the two had supported each other as the closest of friends.

Gryff raised his hand in casual greeting, his subordinates following behind him.

Just thinking about the past. About when I was nothing but a reckless brat, before His Majesty Aurelia took me in.

Troubled by the endless conflicts in western Wolimia, the previous king of Regios Kingdom had sought to end the age of war by unifying the west, successfully conquering neighboring kingdoms after years of warfare. His heir, the current King Aurelia, continued this mission with further territorial expansion, finally bringing them to the brink of unifying all eight western nations.

Strictly speaking, Aurelia was not the previous king's son but his daughter, though this was a closely guarded secret known only to a select few advisors.

Lambert and Gryff, who were close to Aurelia, knew her circumstances but were so discreet that they never revealed the secret, even in private conversation. After the previous king's death, his brother, the grand duke, had attempted to usurp the throne by assassinating Aurelia's older brother while he was still young. To thwart the grand duke's ambitions, the newborn Aurelia had been forced to live as a male. Even now, after the grand duke's execution, the deception continued, with Aurelia still presenting herself as a man.

Why are you here? Isn't your post quite far from here?

I wanted to survey the terrain once more myself.

At that, Gryff walked forward a few steps and stopped at the cliff's edge.

. . . Lambert, what's your assessment of this battle?

I won't let my guard down, but . . . frankly, it should be easy. Even half our forces would suffice. After everything we've been through to reach this point, the end feels almost anticlimactic. Once we push through here and show we're serious about a full assault, that fool king will have no choice but to surrender.

I see. I actually share that opinion. I'm relieved to hear you say that.

Gryff . . . ?

Gryff had been gazing toward the cliff, but suddenly spun around, drawing his greatsword and slashing at Lambert. Lambert frantically raised his own greatsword to block the attack. A sharp clang rang out as metal struck metal.

What the hell are you doing—

Behind Lambert, Gryff's subordinates had also drawn their swords. They all raised their blades and charged at Lambert as one.

Damn you!

Lambert deflected Gryff's greatsword and used the momentum to duck and roll sideways, dodging the subordinates' blades. He sprang up with lightning speed and let out a bestial roar as he swept his greatsword in a wide horizontal arc.

Graaaaaaaahhhhh!

One man's leg snapped and flew through the air, while another took a blade to the waist, spraying blood as he was sent hurtling away. Yet Lambert's greatsword didn't lose momentum. It shattered the third man's breastplate and launched his torso into the air. With a single swing, he had cut down three armored soldiers.

But while Lambert was focused on the subordinates, Gryff had slipped completely into his blind spot.

It had been nine against one from the start—hardly a situation where he could keep track of all enemies at once. Moreover, his armor and helmet severely restricted his vision. When he heard the clatter of shifting armor plates, Lambert finally pinpointed Gryff's exact position.

Nothing personal, Lambert!

Gryff leaped from the blind spot and brought his greatsword down toward Lambert. Despite wearing heavy organ armor, his jump was effortlessly light, as if gravity didn't affect him. This was Gryff's signature sword technique—Moon Wing.

Lambert knew this technique well, but never imagined it would be used against him with killing intent. The pressure was completely different from sparring sessions or watching from the sidelines. Lambert instinctively crouched low and deflected the blow at an angle, but still took a heavy impact to his shoulder bone through the armor.

The elite soldiers mainly wore full plate armor that coveres the entire body, and greatswords were correspondingly designed to be heavy and blunt, specialized for crushing blows. Furthermore, the sword carried the tremendous weight of organ armor behind it.

After striking Lambert's shoulder, Gryff's blade slammed into the ground. With a thunderous roar, cracks spread through the earth and dust billowed up.

Well done! But now your sword arm will never rise again!

Once again Gryff leaped up, swinging his greatsword.

A second Moon Wing.

Don't mock me!

Lambert forced his injured shoulder up and brought his greatsword down with both arms, putting his full strength behind it. Gryff hastily repositioned his weapon to block, but the crushing force from above sent him tumbling to the ground.

He managed to land skillfully in a crouch, but Lambert's strike, powered by raw strength, was no ordinary blow.

Gryff was a hero who had survived countless fierce battles—he wouldn't drop his greatsword from shock alone—but the impact had left his hands and feet numb.

It wasn't simple numbness, but a searing pain that felt like his joints were being burned away. Gryff found himself crouched pathetically before Lambert, the very man whose life he had been trying to take, unable to move.

I-impossible . . . this wasn't supposed to . . .

Panic finally began to show on Gryff's face. From both sides, two of Gryff's subordinates rushed forward to aid him.

General Gryff!

Lambert swung his greatsword like a club, crushing both their heads right through their helmets and armor. Three of Gryff's subordinates still remained, but they had dropped their swords and could only tremble.

S-so . . . General Lambert is th-this powerful . . .

Gryff's subordinates had already lost their will to fight. They had believed they could at least distract Lambert and provide cover for Gryff. They had been prepared to die for that cause. But they weren't prepared for such swift, brutal deaths.

It wasn't that Gryff's subordinates were cowardly. Lambert was simply a far more formidable opponent than they had ever imagined.

L-Lambert . . .

Gryff glared at Lambert, his face pale. An instant before Gryff could try to rise, Lambert's greatsword pressed against his neck.

. . . I cannot die until His Majesty Aurelia achieves the unification of the west.

Heh, heh . . . even though it's your majesty's own command.

Wh-what?!

Lambert was shaken by those words. Seeing his bewilderment, Gryff's face twisted into a grimace.

You possess overwhelming power and charisma. This war . . . without you, it would have dragged on for generations. Despite being born a farmer, even the nobles don't openly despise you anymore. You're the greatest hero in the Regios Kingdom. And your popularity with the common people is unmatched.

What are you getting at!

If you were to expose His Majesty Aurelia's secret right as the war ends . . . the crown would inevitably fall to you. The castle is full of stubborn traditionalists, and thanks to that fool grand duke's killing spree, there are no close relatives left. To prevent any trouble, this was the only way.

For a moment, Lambert couldn't process what he was hearing. Then understanding hit him like a blow. Essentially, seeing Lambert's popularity, Aurelia feared that once the foreign wars ended, her own position might be threatened. He could understand the logic, but he couldn't accept it.

That's absurd! His Majesty Aurelia suspected me of treason?!

He knew such rumors had once circulated—spread by nobles jealous of Lambert's rise. Aurelia hadn't seemed to take them seriously.

Besides, they were the closest of friends. They had encouraged each other and shared their dreams. Lambert had even harbored romantic feelings for Aurelia. To him, she was his benefactor, his liege, his friend, and his beloved.

That can't be . . . it can't be . . .

But if things had reached the point where Gryff was trying to take his life, it could only mean one thing—his liege had ordered it.

Indeed, as royalty, it was her duty to eliminate any potential threats before they could grow. Even if she believed ninety-nine percent of it was lies, if even one percent raised doubt, she couldn't ignore it. After all, the throne and the nation's future were at stake. If she turned a blind eye to potential trouble that could lead to civil war, tens of thousands more would die.

Yet Lambert could never fully accept it.

Your Majesty . . . why . . . I have always been so devoted . . .

Lambert sank to his knees. His grip failed and his greatsword clattered to the ground. The moment the blade rang out, Gryff sprang to his feet and thrust his greatsword forcefully into Lambert's breastplate. Without the strength to resist, Lambert simply staggered backward.

Gryff slammed into him with his full weight, then struck with his sword at point-blank range as he pulled back, sending Lambert's massive frame flying. Lambert's body lifted into the air.

. . . Ah.

Lambert had stepped backward off the cliff. Frantically trying to grab onto something, his hand touched Gryff's greatsword.

Consider it a gift. Farewell, Hero Lambert.

Gryff released the greatsword. Lambert's body tumbled deep into the ravine below.

Two months later, the Regios Kingdom unified the western Wolimia nations, finally bringing an end to over four centuries of warfare. Gryff's name would long be remembered as a loyal retainer to Aurelia, the Unifying King of western Wolimia.

1

Two men walked through the dark, dank bottom of a ravine.

One wore a dark navy robe pulled down to conceal even his eyes. Though he was child-sized, the crimson eyes that occasionally peered out held no trace of childishness. On his back, he carried a coffin nearly as tall as himself.

The other was a balding old man with gloomy, sinister eyes.

Both belonged to an organization that studied forbidden magic—magic restricted or prohibited by the state—called the Flute-Playing Devils. This organization was composed of talented sorcerers who had strayed from the righteous path. They were known for their willingness to commit murder, human experimentation, and the use of anti-religious magic. Though the Regios Kingdom considered them dangerous, they were elusive and their true nature remained largely unknown, allowing them to operate freely.

The robed child was named Maniga.

Though born into a prestigious family of white magic healers, he had betrayed his clan to join the Flute-Playing Devils and study necromancy—the magic that controlled the dead.

The old man was named Bruig. He too was a member of the Flute-Playing Devils, having come to the ravine as Maniga's attendant. In his youth, he had traveled around subduing monsters born from mana pools and was known as an excellent and virtuous sorcerer. But that had been merely a facade.

When Bruig grew old, he succumbed to his desire to uncover magic's deepest secrets before he died and sought out the Flute-Playing Devils.

Aye, I can feel the flow of mana here. This place is inconspicuous enough, and folk wouldn't think twice if people went missing. Snatch anyone who passes by and we'll have all the materials we need. No one would suspect it was our doing.

Bruig grinned wickedly as he gazed at the cliff wall, licking his lips.

Maniga left Bruig behind and strode ahead quickly. Bruig hurried to catch up with him.

Eventually Maniga stopped and crouched down before a skeleton. The skeleton was clad in massive armor, with a greatsword gripped in its hand. A helmet lay nearby.

Maniga, why such haste?

. . . This skeleton still has mana dwelling within it.

What's that?

Bruig stood beside Maniga as well and looked at the skeleton. There was no sign of decay on the bones. This indicated that powerful mana dwelt within them, preventing deterioration and soil contamination.

Mana was the sacred power that dwelled in all living things—some even considered it part of the soul. When a creature died, its mana would normally disperse into the surrounding air. However, if the deceased harbored lingering attachments to life, some of that mana could turn inward and settle into the bones.

But this armor . . . I've never seen anything like it. Full plate armor like this was supposedly the standard centuries ago. Can mana really last for nearly two hundred years?

. . . This being a mana pool might slow deterioration somewhat. Besides, this one seems to harbor deep regrets. It should make an excellent undead.

Maniga lowered the coffin from his back and opened the lid. Inside were his magical implements—spellbooks and chemicals packed tightly together.

Well then, let's see Master Maniga's necromancy at work.

Bruig settled himself on a nearby stone and set his lantern on the ground. Maniga drew a metal rod and a can of dark red liquid from the coffin, using them to draw a large circle around the armored skeleton. Next he produced a bottle and scattered its powdered contents over the remains. The powder was made by grinding together multiple monsters.

Maniga tried to move the armored skeleton closer to the center of the circle, but when he touched it, he grimaced at its weight.

This armor . . . it's organ.

Organ was incredibly heavy, and Maniga couldn't even drag it properly.

Making armor from organ is utterly foolish. No one could move properly wearing something like that.

However, there are records of the Regios Kingdom using full organ armor during the Unification War of Eight Nations . . .

That must have been ceremonial decoration or something. They couldn't have actually used it in battle. Ignorant wannabe historians just make up such nonsense for entertainment. I don't know why this fellow is wearing it, but it was probably some fool noble's hobby or part of some ritual.

. . . I see. When you put it that way, that does seem more likely.

Maniga pointed his staff toward the armored skeleton. He constructed a magical formula in his mind and used mana's power to project it into the air. A glowing magic circle appeared above the armored remains.

O dead one, obey me!

Along with Maniga's cry, crimson light flared deep within the armored skeleton's eye sockets. Its entire body began to rattle and shake.

And thus an obedient undead knight is born.

Hmm . . . as expected from a descendant of a prestigious white magic family. Such terrifying skill at your age. I suspect Master Maniga and I will be able to cause some delightful chaos together.

I dislike having my family brought up, but I'm honored by your praise, Bruig . . . hm?

The armored skeleton slowly rose to its feet. Seeing this, Maniga was astounded.

Since this undead had been created using the mana already dwelling within it, its abilities were based on how strong it had been in life. Maniga had assumed no human could move while wearing organ armor and that he'd need to remove it first—but he never expected the skeleton to rise so effortlessly.

. . . Cut through the air with that sword.

When Maniga gave the command, the armored skeleton nodded slowly and swung its greatsword. The massive blade sliced through the air at tremendous speed. Unable to withstand the overwhelming presence, Maniga tumbled backward. His hood came loose, revealing a childish face that belied his malevolent nature.

Wh-what incredible power! H-hey, Master Maniga, are you all right?

When Bruig called out to him, Maniga was grinning from ear to ear.

Excellent . . . amazing! This undead is no ordinary creature! With this thing, we might not even need to fear the Regios Kingdom's surveillance anymore!

Maniga was so excited that he shouted, spit flying.

Ho ho, how reassuring. The mana in this ley line might have strengthened the skeleton's mana.

There might be other good corpses as well! Bruig . . . let's contact the Flute-Playing Devils in other regions and gather our forces in earnest! First, we'll bring down the city of Lievel!

Indeed . . . to think such a powerful undead could be created so easily. I might suggest to the higher-ups that we focus our efforts on necromancy research.

Bruig stared intently at the armored skeleton and grinned wickedly.

Yes! Let's do it! And eventually, we'll turn every single citizen of this country into the undead! We'll destroy the foolish Regios Kingdom that can't understand the magnificence of the Flute-Playing Devils, and make them our slaves for eternity even after death!

Ho ho ho, how splendid indeed.

As the two laughed and talked, the armored skeleton's body gave a slight twitch.

R-Regios . . . Kingdom . . . ?

Bruig stopped laughing and looked at the armored skeleton.

. . . Hey, doesn't this thing still have its self-awareness?

Impossible. It just responded to certain words. When someone dies with strong regrets, it's entirely possible for simple reactions to familiar words to occur. But that's all it is. This appears to be a corpse from quite long ago, and it's already a miracle that mana remains at all. There's no way consciousness could still . . .

Regios Kingdom . . . I will not let the Regios Kingdom be destroyed. The Regios Kingdom must achieve the unification of the west . . .

The armored skeleton swept its greatsword in a horizontal arc.

. . . Huh?

Maniga looked from Bruig to the armored skeleton and gasped in shock. A tremendous roar echoed as the sword tip struck the ground, sending up clouds of dust.

Bruig wiped the dust from his eyes with his sleeve.

I-impossible . . . so it wasn't an old corpse after all! It still has enough willpower to defy a necromancer! Hey, Master Maniga! Do something about this!

As Bruig shouted, Maniga's upper body fell beside him.

. . . Huh?

He was clearly already dead.

Wh-why am I alive . . . ? Ah, ah . . .

The armored skeleton slowly turned its face toward Bruig.

Damn! Earth, become a swamp!

Bruig quickly swung his staff down and struck the ground. A magic circle appeared and the armored skeleton's feet began to sink.

Oh . . . ?

The armored skeleton's body began sinking into the ground.

Earth, solidify!

He followed with another spell. With the armored skeleton's lower half buried underground, the ground began to harden.

Earth, become stone!

Earth gathered around the armored skeleton's lower body, and then completely covered the rest of it. The ground quickly changed texture, forming a rough stone mass in the blink of an eye. Bruig sighed in relief as he dropped to his knees.

Hah . . . hah . . . When it regained consciousness, it became disoriented. What a terrifying creature. Master Maniga really botched this one . . .

Then Bruig felt nauseous and clutched his throat.

Ugh . . . maybe I overreacted a bit . . .

Magic that instantly reshapes matter demands enormous amounts of mana. Even someone of Bruig's skill would find it exhausting to cast such spells repeatedly without rest. Normally, magic of this caliber would take much longer to invoke. That he suffered only this minor backlash spoke to Bruig's considerable abilities.

But in the next moment, the rock crumbled apart and the armored skeleton burst free.

The armored skeleton smashed through the stone restraints, launched itself through the air, and crashed down with a thunderous impact.

What—That's impossible!

He stumbled backward in panic.

Fire! Burn it to ash!

Bruig aimed his staff at the armored skeleton. Flames erupted from the staff's tip, coalescing into a blazing sphere before streaking toward the skeleton.

The armored skeleton simply swung its greatsword, and that single motion was enough to snuff out the flames entirely. Bruig instinctively threw his hands up to shield his face from the shower of sparks.

This is impossible . . . it's just an undead!

When he lowered his hands and looked up, the armored skeleton loomed directly over him, greatsword already raised high overhead.

What?!

In the next instant, Bruig was split clean in half from head to groin. Blood erupted in a massive spray as his severed organs spilled from the gaping wound. His body collapsed in two separate pieces.

2

The armored skeleton—Lambert, former general of the Regios Kingdom—stared in wonder at the blade of the greatsword in his grasp. The polished steel reflected back a skeleton clad in armor. Deep within those hollow eye sockets, crimson flames flickered with an eerie glow.

Though Lambert had been transformed into an undead creature, his consciousness remained completely intact. This was because his willpower and lingering regrets far exceeded anything Maniga had anticipated. Maniga could never have imagined that the skeleton he'd taken such interest in was actually the legendary hero who had met his tragic end during the Unification War of Eight Nations.

W-what . . . what is this . . .

Strangely, his voice sounded exactly as it had in life. It emerged directly from the concentrated mana at the core of his skull, emanating from deep within those empty eye sockets.

So I really am dead . . . and the Regios Kingdom . . .

As this realization hit him, Lambert's mind flashed back to his final battle with Gryff. Then Aurelia's beautiful face surfaced in his thoughts, followed by the crushing memory of her betrayal.

. . . No, I wasn't betrayed. As a monarch . . . it was something she had to do.

Though he spoke those words, he couldn't truly accept them. He had always believed that Aurelia also considered him a dear friend.

More than fighting for his country, Lambert had always been motivated by his dedication to Aurelia—knowing that he wielded his sword for her sake. He had never once regretted offering his life for her. But being branded an agitator on her orders and executed—that was what broke his heart most of all.

So my lingering regrets caused me to return as a monster . . . What a pathetic fool I am . . .

Lambert felt ashamed of himself.

Deep within his skull, he could feel mana gathering. That was now the source of his power as an undead. Lambert instinctively understood this and considered destroying it to end his existence, but held back.

I want to know . . . what became of the war . . . what became of the Regios Kingdom . . .

Lambert picked up the fallen helmet and placed it on his head. As long as he wore the helmet when appearing before others, no one would realize he was undead.

Though he had been betrayed and killed, his desire remained unchanged—for his homeland to achieve victory in the war and for his liege to become the Unifying King of western Wolimia.

Still . . . what were those people?

He suddenly looked at the corpse lying behind him. A boy's lower half lay collapsed in a pool of blood—Maniga the necromancer, whom Lambert had just sliced horizontally in two.

Maniga was a prodigious sorcerer who had mastered his prestigious family's white magic by age eight, then turned to the forbidden art of necromancy. Though only fourteen, he had already made his name widely known as a member of the Flute-Playing Devils. Casually unleashing hordes of undead upon villages to destroy them and create fresh piles of corpses was routine for him.

He was considered one of the most dangerous upper-class sorcerers within the Flute-Playing Devils and was treated as a wanted criminal. His threat level was rated third out of five on the monster-based scale—upper ogre-class. Taking him down would require eight or more first-class warriors.

Of course, the ogre-class designation was based heavily on Maniga's abilities as a necromancer. Since he was caught unprepared this time and the matter was settled by surprise attack, his rating was largely irrelevant.

I believe they mentioned destroying the Regios Kingdom. So they must be from the Maculas Kingdom? I don't know how long I was sleeping, but apparently the war hasn't ended yet. What face would Gryff make if I came to his aid . . .

Looking at Maniga's pitiful upper half lying in the distance, Lambert let out a sigh.

Still, how cruel of the Maculas Kingdom. To send such an obviously untrained child to Ougran Gorge, the center of the battlefield. They must be desperately short of personnel. They should just surrender quickly instead . . .

Recalling the terrified expression Maniga had worn just before being cut down, Lambert assumed he was a combat novice. In reality, Maniga had always killed from a distance and was simply unprepared for the possibility of his own death. Unaware of this, Lambert never imagined that this boy was actually a necromancer who had destroyed numerous villages.

The same was true of the old sorcerer Bruig. In terms of pure magical skill, Bruig's abilities were higher than Maniga's, and his combat experience was far more extensive. His masterful magical abilities were incomparable to ordinary mages. Bruig's unique rapid-fire magic—which dramatically reduced casting time and intervals—made even approaching him difficult when he disregarded backlash and unleashed spells in succession. Even first-class warriors would be ensnared by the earth he controlled, immobilized, and then inevitably killed. This was why he was feared as Bruig the Earth Spider.

Bruig had been confident that he couldn't lose in one-on-one combat against humans. That's precisely why he never imagined someone could forcibly break free of his earth restraints and cleave him in half from crown to groin.

Lambert knew nothing about this, nor did he care.

Their spells were cast quickly enough, but they had no real power behind them. If I'd been fully alert, I could have dodged attacks that were that slow without breaking a sweat. Maybe they were weakened by age and dragged here against their will . . .

Lambert had lived through an era where only the strong survived. Everyone desperately honed their skills with sword and magic, fighting for their lives every single day. In such brutal times, those who couldn't grow stronger died quickly. Lambert had stood at the pinnacle among warriors of that age. To him, people from a peaceful nation who had simply wandered down the wrong path were no more threatening than children or frail old men.

How cruel, using children and the elderly like this. For the sake of both our people and theirs, this war needs to end quickly . . .

Driven by his misguided sense of righteousness, Lambert ran along the bottom of the ravine.

As he ran, Aurelia's face came to mind. Her beautiful golden hair, always perfectly arranged, and those blue eyes filled with unwavering determination. Her smooth skin and strong, graceful eyebrows. That gentle smile she would sometimes show him—so different from her usual royal composure.

Lambert felt a sharp ache deep in his chest and pressed his hand there. But beneath the metal armor lay only hollow bones in an empty cavity. He touched his eye sockets and, realizing he could no longer even cry, laughed bitterly at his loneliness.

3

After finding a section where the cliff was lower, Lambert faced the wall and focused his mind. He emptied his thoughts, reaching a state of perfect calm, then roared as he charged straight up the cliff face in a single burst. Vertical clouds of dust spiraled up the rock wall as thunderous echoes boomed throughout the area.

Hah!

He swung his greatsword—still in its sheath—and slammed it into the top of the cliff, using the impact to launch his body up to ground level. Throughout all of Wolimia, Lambert was probably the only one who could pull off such a feat while wearing organ armor.

I can move exactly like I did when I was alive . . . Strange how this undead body works. I can still feel weight, as if I had flesh.

Lambert's observation was correct. Thanks to the necromancer Maniga's power, Lambert now possessed an Ethereal Body formed from specialized mana. Essentially, magical energy enveloped his bones, giving him strength and substance so he could move as he had in life.

The Ethereal Body was nothing more than an energy form made of mana that mimicked flesh. It existed solely to allow the undead to move around. If someone thrust a sword into Lambert's neck, the blade would pass right through the Ethereal Body and strike his bones directly. Unlike real flesh, it offered no protection to the skeleton beneath.

However, Lambert wore the ultimate armor. This organ armor bore the lengthy official name Regionis Organjera Armor. Created by Aurelia's predecessor, who had gathered the finest craftsmen and poured vast wealth into its construction, only four suits existed in the world. Only the Four Demon Generals of the Regios Kingdom were permitted to wear them. Lambert had been one of the second-generation Four Demon Generals.

No matter what kind of attack was used, penetrating this armor was nearly impossible.

However, the real reason the Four Demon Generals were so feared on the battlefield wasn't the armor itself, but rather their ability to move effortlessly across battlefields while wearing armor of such tremendous weight.

After climbing the cliff, Lambert had been running through the forest for some time. The massive metal figure tore through the earth with each step.

As Lambert ran, he sensed a malevolent presence. Though this was a new sensation for him, he could somehow guess what it meant.

This presence . . . is it coming from a monster?

Monsters were creatures born from mana pools.

Normal animals also possessed mana, but they gained it after birth. More precisely, it was said that the gods blessed all life with mana. Monsters born from mana pools followed the reverse process, which is why they were often considered evil beings that defied divine will.

In other words, undead who had been resurrected by mana's power and given new life were also classified as monsters. Lambert himself was now undead—a twisted being created by mana.

Since monsters were born from mana, they were more sensitive to it than normal animals. Undead in particular—as the dead who envied the living—were extremely sensitive to mana, which could be considered life force itself. This sensitivity had given Lambert an ability impossible when he was human: sensing the presence of others by tracing their mana.

However, this was a completely new sensation he couldn't be certain about. To better understand the true nature of his strange new ability, he decided to approach the malevolent presence he'd detected. Soon enough, he discovered what that presence truly was.

Before a great tree in the forest, an ogre stood motionless, glaring in his direction. The ogre's build was even larger than Lambert's armored form.

Its body was a mass of muscle with bulging blood vessels. Ominous eyes and thick, blood-stained horns. Fangs protruded from its mouth, and razor-sharp claws were designed for taking the lives of living creatures.

Ogres were considered one of the standards for measuring monster strength—opponents that humans could not defeat in direct combat.

As a species, humans were greatly inferior to ogres in physical strength. Their arms were also far longer than humans', and this difference in strength and reach could not be easily overcome. A skilled sorcerer might be able to defeat one using clever tactics, but normally it took four first-class warriors working together to finally bring one down.

Ogres were extremely aggressive, and their straightforward charging attacks, though simple, were extremely difficult to avoid due to their tremendous speed. Countless warriors had lost their lives to those very assaults.

This ogre was the king of the forest. Every monster in the forest feared it, submitted to it, and lived while carefully avoiding it. No monster would carelessly cross the ogre's path, and when the ogre slept, they would hide and remain quiet to avoid waking it.

Living in fear to avoid becoming targets of the ogre's violence—that was the law of this forest.

When someone had brazenly approached while radiating such a powerful mana presence, the ogre had leaped to its feet.

The ogre was angered by this rude forest intruder, but was also intrigued. It had never before encountered any creature other than itself that possessed such powerful mana. It wanted to determine which was superior—itself or the intruder. The ogre extended its arms forward and lowered its stance, taking a combat-ready position.

Lambert realized the ogre intended to fight him and drew his greatsword, but his feet continued running without stopping.

Guuuu . . .

The ogre growled low. The monster felt something incomprehensible as it observed Lambert's behavior.

Lambert appeared to be completely full of openings.

Ogres were born with instinctively high combat skills. They knew the art of detecting when creatures lacked vigilance and lunging in to slaughter them.

The ogre was certain that no matter how it attacked, Lambert wouldn't be able to defend or evade quickly enough—he would inevitably fall prey to its massive claws.

Guugaaaah!

Finally the ogre kicked off the ground, bent its knees, and pounced toward Lambert. From the ogre's perspective, Lambert's reaction seemed impossibly slow.

When attacked, normal creatures display some form of defensive preparation. They might suddenly raise an arm, or even if they don't, their bodies will sway, shoulders will tremble, or pupils will dilate . . . involuntary responses to the threat as their minds race: How should I deal with this?

Ogres were born with the instinctive ability to gauge hostile creatures' reflexes by reading these defensive preparations. But no matter how close it came, Lambert showed no such reactions.

The ogre judged Lambert to be inferior. It raised its massive claws, aiming to thrust them into the gaps at Lambert's neck joints. It prepared to strike—or so it thought. In the ogre's mind, it could already see itself swatting away Lambert's helmet along with his head.

However, the ogre's raised claws never reached Lambert's armor. Its arm flew through the air, scattering green blood.

The ogre felt its body slowly falling backward. Sensing its dire situation, its combat instincts flooded its brain with mana, processing information at lightning speed and making everything around it appear in slow motion.

But it was already too late. Almost simultaneously with its arm being severed, its torso had also been split in two. Not stopping there, a third sword strike was heading toward the ogre's face. Lambert had cut off the ogre's arm and torso in an instant, then moved to crush its head with his greatsword before the ogre's body could even collapse.

The ogre realized it had been far too arrogant. Lambert had shown no defensive preparations simply because he was far too experienced in battle. He had shown no unnecessary reactions—it was as simple as that. Even with the ogre's claws coming right up to his neck, Lambert was absolutely certain he could kill the ogre in the very next moment.

The ogre felt ashamed of its own arrogance. Having known only creatures far inferior to itself, it had completely misjudged Lambert's true strength. Yet as a battle-crazed creature, it felt proud to have crossed blades with Lambert in the end.

A thrust radiating intense pressure drove into the ogre's face. It was a crushing blow that seemed to pulverize everything, and the ogre's head scattered in all directions with a thunderous roar. There, the ogre's life came to a complete end.

This entire sequence of combat had lasted only an instant. For ordinary people, it would have been over so quickly they wouldn't even understand what had happened—just suddenly seeing scattered flesh.

Lambert continued running as he swung his greatsword to flick off the blood and returned it to its sheath. He did so without the slightest emotion.

I see . . . it seems this body can sense mana. I might be able to detect where humans are as well.

His thoughts had already shifted from the ogre itself to the information he'd gained through combat. Subjugating monsters of this level was far too easy for Lambert.

But this is strange . . . the terrain and scenery seem somewhat different from what I remember. Could I have climbed up to a completely different location?

Once again, his thoughts were going in the wrong direction. At this point, Lambert still hadn't realized that over two hundred years had passed since his death . . .

4

Lambert walked alone through the forest, the joints of his organ armor clanking against each other. Near him, not even insects or animals showed themselves, let alone monsters. Even when he sensed what seemed to be animal mana, it would immediately disappear as if fleeing.

How strange . . . it's far too quiet. What exactly happened while my corpse was lying abandoned . . . ?

Lambert felt uneasy and became more alert.

Monsters, animals, and insects have fundamentally better instincts than humans. Lambert reasoned that wherever they refused to approach, tremendous danger must be lurking.

Lambert's prediction was half correct. He was right that tremendous danger was lurking—he was wrong about what that danger was. The danger was Lambert himself. The monsters sensed the overwhelming power from the mana Lambert was leaking and hid themselves in terror.

While it's natural for living creatures to continuously release trace amounts of mana outside their bodies . . . monsters, especially the undead, release far more than normal creatures. Unless consciously suppressed, they continue to intimidate their surroundings. The trace mana released by monsters into their surroundings is also called miasma, and besides causing discomfort and fear, some types of monsters' miasma can even cause disease.

Having just become undead with human self-awareness far stronger than typical specimens, Lambert had no idea whatsoever that he was leaking miasma.

Honestly, I can't pick up any human presence at all . . . but I keep detecting signs of strange monsters. If they're just monsters like that ogre from before, that would be fine, but . . .

On the contrary, he even interpreted the dense presence of his own miasma as evidence that other monsters were lurking nearby.

Lambert continued running after that. Eventually the sun set and dawn broke. Ignoring the morning sun that somehow felt nostalgic, Lambert realized he wasn't feeling the slightest bit tired. He had been running nonstop for nearly half a day, yet showed no signs of his stamina reaching its limit.

The undead know no fatigue and never sleep. Learning this made Lambert feel somewhat lonely. He was no longer among the living—he was no longer truly human, his life had become something twisted—and it felt as if he was being told this anew.

After sorting through his feelings, Lambert considered other aspects of his new body and was amazed by its high performance.

Never tiring, never sleeping . . . a body that knows no fatigue. On a battlefield, what a blessing that would be. To be able to move at full strength constantly. If the war isn't over yet, perhaps abandoning my flesh to gain this body was fortunate. If all four of the Regios Kingdom's Four Demon Generals became undead, I'm confident we could capture a castle with just the four of us.

Lambert, who had abandoned himself to serve his country, was somewhat different from ordinary people. After switching his mindset, Lambert reasoned that since his stamina would never run out anyway, he might as well race through the forest at full speed.

Still . . . I haven't seen any other animals at all. After running this far, I'm still in that monster's territory! It must be a creature with considerable influence.

In the end, Lambert never realized that he himself was the source of the miasma.

After running a bit further, Lambert sensed animal mana. Unlike the animals he had detected before, this one appeared to be stationary.

Lambert decided to make contact with the owner of this mana. As he approached the mana's presence, he discovered an emaciated girl sitting on a rock. Her complexion was poor, her cheeks sunken, and her arms were thin as twigs. She looked like she hadn't eaten properly for days.

At the girl's feet lay a bow, a quiver, and a bird pierced by an arrow. It looked like she'd been hunting. Though she was clearly hungry, she showed no intention of eating the bird she had caught. She simply stared vacantly at the ground with a completely despairing expression.

Humans aren't as good at sensing mana and miasma as other animals. Therefore, the girl had not noticed Lambert's miasma.

Lambert appeared before the girl and showed himself. The girl slowly lifted her face and turned her gaze toward Lambert.

You there, girl. What year is it by the Regios calendar? I'd like to know how the war with the Maculas Kingdom is going.

The girl looked at Lambert and her eyes widened. The sight of his unfamiliar full armor and the faint miasma radiating from his undead form filled her with fear.

However, a small spark of hope had begun to grow within her. She stood up and approached Lambert.

Um . . . are you one of Count Obock's soldiers? Where are the others . . . ?

. . . Obock? No, I don't recognize that name. Besides, I'm alone right now.

The joy and hope that had appeared on the girl's face faded away. She returned to the same dark expression as before and slowly shook her head.

I . . . I see. You should leave here immediately.

What?

You see, my village has been taken over by bandits . . . They've taken my sick mother and little sister hostage, forcing me to hunt like this every day. Just recently, some adventurers came after growing suspicious when communication from our village stopped . . . but all three of them were captured right away. Before you get caught up in this too . . .

Hearing this, Lambert understood. That explained why she hadn't touched the game she'd caught while hunting, despite obviously starving. Her mistake in thinking he was one of the count's soldiers also made sense—she had probably hoped the count had learned of the village's crisis and taken action.

. . . But I've never heard of a village existing in a border forest like this. And . . . your accent sounds somewhat unfamiliar. Ah, I see . . . it seems that while running, I somehow wandered deep into Maculas Kingdom territory.

The border . . . ? The Maculas Kingdom . . . ? Um, what have you been talking about this whole time?

What?

This is the Regios Kingdom—quite far toward the center, actually . . .

Wh-what . . . what?!

Lambert was so shocked he couldn't even attempt to compose himself. Seeing his astonishment, the girl flinched and trembled.

H-here is central Regios Kingdom? That means . . . the war with the Maculas Kingdom is over, and His Majesty Aurelia has already achieved the unification of the west! And if villages have been established . . . it must have been over twenty years! Which means . . . His Majesty Aurelia might even have grandchildren by now . . . How could . . . how could so much time have passed without my realizing? I need a moment to wrap my head around this . . .

In reality, over two hundred years had passed since Lambert was thrown into the ravine by Gryff. The Maculas Kingdom was ancient history, and Aurelia, toward whom Lambert held such complex emotions, had died long, long ago.

Um . . .

Lambert had been pressing his hands to his helmet in bewilderment for some time, but the girl's voice brought him back to his senses.

. . . By the way, girl, do you recognize this armor?

N-no, I'm terribly sorry, but . . .

I see . . .

Lambert figured it made sense that the girl didn't recognize the Regionis Organjera Armor. If more than twenty years had truly passed, she would have been born after the war had already ended. Though he felt the loneliness of being from a different generation, there wasn't much he could do about it.

Lambert concluded that the Four Demon Generals had probably been disbanded, or at least undergone major changes.

. . . Besides, it's better to keep my true identity hidden. If word spreads that Lambert, former Four Demon General, has returned from the dead, it would interfere with my information gathering. They might even send Gryff after me. I'd win next time, but . . . I don't particularly want to kill him.

As an aside, Lambert's former best friend Gryff, one of the Four Demon Generals, had died long ago.

Perhaps because she's just a child, she didn't notice this time . . . but I should probably get my hands on some plain, inconspicuous full plate armor as soon as possible.

The armor commonly used nowadays consisted mainly of lightweight breastplates and leather armor that protected only the body's most vital points—full plate armor itself stood out conspicuously. But there was no way Lambert could have known this.

Th-the village is nearby, so . . . it's dangerous here. If you go that way, you should be able to escape . . . Please, tell Count Obock about this! If I leave the village, my mother and sister who are being held hostage will be killed . . . Please!

The girl pleaded desperately with Lambert.

No, that won't be necessary.

Huh . . . ?

It may not look like it, but I was once a knight in service to the kingdom. If the people of the Regios Kingdom are being threatened by bandits, I can't just ignore it. I'll handle this matter myself.

While Lambert had mixed feelings about how Aurelia had treated him, he had never forgotten his patriotism. From the very beginning, Lambert had always possessed an unusually strong sense of justice.

That's reckless! There are over thirty bandits!

Untrained bandits are nothing to fear, no matter how many there are. Guide me to the village.

B-but . . .

From the girl's perspective, if she led Lambert to the village only for him to be easily defeated by the bandits, there was no telling what would happen to her and her family. It wasn't something she could readily agree to.

Lambert was beginning to feel irritated. He couldn't understand why the girl was being so stubborn about letting him handle the bandits.

To Lambert, who was one of the Four Demon Generals praised as living weapons of the Regios Kingdom, mere bandits posed no threat at all.

Even if the girl didn't recognize the Regionis Organjera Armor, he thought she should at least notice its brilliant gleam.

Nothing but unemployed ruffians without proper masters, barely any training, and no convictions whatsoever—that's how Lambert saw bandits.

During the Unification War of Eight Nations era, it was common knowledge that no number of ordinary people could match elite soldiers who had pushed their bodies to the absolute limit.

But two hundred years had passed since then.

Times had changed, and among people living in a stable nation, superhuman warriors like those from that era rarely appeared anymore. On this point, Lambert and the girl's perceptions differed, and neither could understand the other.

I won't say it again. Take me to the village. That's an order.

In his irritation, thick miasma leaked from Lambert's body. The concentration was so intense that even the girl, who was poor at sensing mana, felt an overwhelming sense of intimidation. The girl shuddered violently, her face turning pale. Her legs gave out and she collapsed on the spot.

Though she was merely facing a man in strange armor, it felt as if she were being glared at by a monster far more powerful than herself. Predator and prey. Lambert's undead miasma imprinted this instinctive power dynamic into the girl's mind.

I'm going to be killed.

The intimidation was so overwhelming that it made her think such thoughts.

Ah . . . ahhh . . .

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words would come. Lambert was shaken by how frightened the girl looked.

I-I came off as threatening, didn't I? S-sorry . . . I'm not used to dealing with children.

Flustered, he gestured with his arms, producing clanking metallic sounds. Seeing the girl's condition, Lambert wondered if his armor and helmet had shifted out of place and patted them down.

A-all right . . . everything should be fine . . . I think . . .

Why had the girl been so frightened? With the possibility of his face being exposed ruled out, Lambert became aware of something overflowing from deep within his body.

D-don't tell me . . . is miasma leaking from my body? Have I fallen so far that I've become a monster . . . ?

Only now did Lambert finally realize that he was emitting miasma. Forced to acknowledge once again that he had become a monster, he hung his helmeted head in dejection.

Then he consciously worked to suppress the miasma leaking from his body. It felt like trying to hold back sweat—uncomfortable and somehow itchy. But it seemed to work, as the sensation of mana flowing out of him stopped.

The girl remained frozen in her crouched position, her body rigid with fear.

. . . A-are you feeling better now? Have you calmed down a little?

Thinking the girl's fear should have subsided now that he had suppressed his miasma, Lambert called out to her again. The girl slowly raised her wide eyes to Lambert. Her frightened expression shifted to bewilderment as she looked at him.

Ah . . . s-sorry . . . I-I lost my composure . . .

The intense killing intent from moments ago had vanished so suddenly, and Lambert's confused demeanor was so at odds with what she'd just experienced, that the disconnect somehow snapped the girl back to her senses.

Um . . . but really, there are so many bandits . . . I'm not lying!

I understand that, but . . . hmm?

Lambert suddenly sensed human mana behind him. Not just one person.

Three people, huh? We've been standing here talking a bit too long. Why don't you stop hiding and come out?

Lambert slowly turned around and looked toward the source of the mana.

Hey now . . . how'd you figure that out?

Damn, and I was planning to launch a surprise attack too.

Either way, wearing that ridiculous armor, arrows ain't gonna pierce through easily. Especially not with your aim.

Three men emerged from behind the trees. Each held a different weapon—one a scythe, another a sword, and the third a blowgun. Though the bandits grinned casually, their faces carried the ferocity of hungry beasts.

The girl panicked, looking back and forth between the bandits and Lambert. They were outnumbered—there was no way they could win. And with Lambert's heavy armor, he wouldn't be able to run away fast enough either.

S-Sir Knight, w-we should surrender . . .

However, while they might look like a pack of hungry beasts to the girl, to Lambert they were nothing more than a pack of puppies.

There's no need to worry.

The moment he spoke, Lambert drew his greatsword and charged toward the bandits. His speed was incredible for someone in heavy armor. The thunderous footfalls of his armored form sounded almost like an ogre's, creating such an oppressive presence that all four people present felt as if the entire forest was trembling. This overwhelming pressure made the bandits realize the armor was no mere decoration.

I'll circle right and get behind him! We surround him and take him down! Drop that blowgun and get your knife out! If we can get it between his armor joints, we've got him!

The bandit with the scythe shouted orders to his companions. At first, they'd figured the old-fashioned armor would slow him down and they could just overwhelm him with numbers. But seeing Lambert's incredible speed, they knew that wasn't going to work.

Before the man could even start circling around, though, Lambert had already closed to striking distance with his greatsword.

What—

Then came the killing intent. Lambert's miasma leaked out as he moved, wrapping around the bandits and filling them with terror. Before they could even process their fear, Lambert's greatsword swept horizontally.

Haaaaaah!

His battle cry accompanied the strike that sent the lead bandit's head flying high into the air. In the same fluid motion, he stepped forward and unleashed a second attack, scooping upward from below. The remaining two bandits were also cleaved in half by the overwhelming mass of Lambert's greatsword. The impact sent all three bodies flying in different directions.

To the girl watching from a distance, Lambert moved so swiftly it looked like he'd cut down all three with a single stroke.

. . . Amazing.

Seeing Lambert's strength, the girl wondered if she was dreaming. It seemed so overwhelming, so surreal. As Lambert sheathed his greatsword, the head of the first man he'd killed fell directly behind him. It hit the ground with a wet crack, blood splattering everywhere like a burst fruit.

Pretty pathetic bunch, weren't they? Strange, really. They didn't look like they were starving either. I hope this isn't a sign of worse things to come . . .

During the Unification War of Eight Nations era, the Regios Kingdom had stationed armies throughout the country in preparation for enemy attacks. And to answer the kingdom's call for conscription, villagers regularly underwent training as well. For bandits to continue their raids against armed village groups while successfully evading the terrifyingly powerful kingdom army, they needed considerable skill.

Back then, the average level of human combat ability was far higher than it is today. Unaware of this change, Lambert found it strange that the bandits had moved like complete amateurs.

Having witnessed Lambert's prowess, the girl no longer objected to leading him to the village as she had before. She thought that perhaps even against thirty opponents, he might somehow manage to win.

With the girl finally agreeing to serve as his guide, Lambert set off toward the village under her direction.