A naked pale corpse dropped from the chamber above and landed on its feet, nearly scaring the unliving shit out of me. I feebly swung my mace with my right hand, but the nightmare casually batted the attack away, sending a jolt up my arm from the force. With its own right hand, it lifted a large black taloned claw, then froze.

The hideous thing had mad, yellow eyes rolling insanely in its skull, with tightly pulled back skin the color of chalk. Its nose had long ago fallen off, but that didn’t seem to impair its ability to smell, because it had only halted its swing to sniff me like a dog. I did my best to remain still while it—no, not just an “it”, a ghoul—Scooby Doo’d me. The smell coming out of its black fanged mouth would surely have made me retch had I not been immune to the condition. It was by far the worst thing I’d experienced, and that’s coming from a person who had to listen to a demon curse him for opening up about his first kiss. Did he even consider how hard it was for me to talk about that possessive necromancer’s lack of foreplay?

Anyway, Oran had known of ghouls, as his mother had used them as a threat against inappropriate behavior. Stuff like, “If you don’t brush your teeth, a ghoul is going to eat your feet while you sleep” or “if you two don’t stop fighting, a ghoul will eat your dessert”. And even though it was just their version of a boogeyman, seeing a real one up close made the whole parenting technique look really jacked up.

The most salient fact to my circumstance, though, was they were infamous carrion eaters. Much like vultures, they wouldn’t leave even a bone behind. They also liked to travel in large packs. Being a walking carrion with no friends meant that was bad news to hear.

Yay for me!

Yet, the ghoul didn’t attack me. It continued sniffing at me, stopping at my left shoulder. Then a long pale tongue exited its maw to flap around while its excitement grew. Slowly, its grotesquely shaped head smelled down my arm, until it practically crouched in front of me. Finally, it stopped at my enchanted dagger.

I only had a second of bewilderment, until the tongue started running across my hand and the blade of the weapon, trying to lick up the dried blood from the cultist.

Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god. Why do things like this keep happening?

The disgusting creature let out a groan of pleasure as its abrasive tongue continued to lash out for that delicious, spoiled gore.

Until that point, the carrion eater had just freaked me out. But that groan had sent my disgust into full forced furor. I activated Spring Forward and slammed the mace down on the crown of its skull with all my strength. Consumed by its meal, the ghoul didn't react until the knob of the bludgeon smashed open a dent in its head.

The creature shrieked in surprise, falling to its hands and knees. I didn’t let up with my assault and bashed it in the head again once more, before switching control to my left arm to drive the dagger into its black brain.

I refuse to be objectified by everyone I meet!

Rancid ichor spewed from the holes I’d made in its skull, and I shuffled backward, trying to get away from it.

A massive rush of mana swelled into my core from the kill, blowing away my discomfort an instant later.

It had been a lot.

I wanted, no needed, to kill more of these things. A handful more of them would certainly be enough for me to reach my next level and evolution. But how could I go about it? They were much stronger, tougher, and faster than me. Maybe if I’d had access to more fresh blood, err, well, semi-fresh blood, I could set another trap. Nevertheless, I didn’t, nor did I know how to gain more.

Another ghoul shot out of the hole in the wall to my right, breaking my plotting. The creature rushed over to the fallen corpse but didn’t look down at it. It only looked at me with its drooling head tilted to the side.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Man, these things really are like dogs.

The ghoul started sniffing the air again, and I had to suppress a shudder.

For a second neither of us did anything, but I could sense an animal like cunning in its insane gaze. So, I leaned into my part, letting out a classic zombie moan and keeping my arms held in front of me like a rapper on an album cover.

The ghoul began walking around me, sniffing the air. It wasn’t completely stupid. The flesh eater knew something happened to its fellow, it just didn’t have the IQ to put the pieces together. I was wholly grateful they didn’t want to eat undead flesh.

Moving behind me was an implicit threat, but I did nothing but stand there staring off into space. Little did the creeper know that doing nothing was my superpower. No one could live in their own head better than me. Entire civilizations, no universes, had risen and fallen in my imagination. Over a decade stuck in hospital beds made me a grandmaster. No way was a two bit necrophage going to break my concentration with a little posturing.

So caught up in my thoughts was I, that I almost missed it when the ghoul almost crawled back into the tunnel right next to me. Apparently having given up on my doing anything interesting after I zoned out for god only knows how long.

It had been plenty long enough for Spring Forward to reset, which was all that I needed. I waited until only its ass half stuck out of the tunnel, then I jumped on it like Pepé Le Pew falling for the Tiger King, slamming my bulk on top of it.

The creature hissed at me!

Who does that?

Then it started bucking like a rodeo bull while I tried to pin its shoulders with my upper body. My back slammed into the roof of the tunnel several times, but because of the thick cultist robe and small backpack I liberated from Pollina, I avoided doing too much damage. I felt the ghoul slipping out from under me, so I lost my composure and started jabbing my enchanted dagger randomly at its head and neck area. Feculent black ichor sprayed my face, and I almost started crying on the spot. Only my bigger fear of getting the gunk in my mouth saved me from openly wailing.

The battle was intense after that, but over quick. I’d gotten lucky and severed its spine, but at the cost of my purity. Distraught as I was, I barely even noticed the rush of mana. My entire face smelled like a lich’s hemorrhoid; it just hadn’t been worth it.

Slumping backwards, I fell on my backside, almost rolling into the stinking first ghoul. After getting up, I gave them both a good kicking, then began the laborious process of cleaning myself off with my brand new robe. By the time I finished, the collar, central chest area and right arm were a dark stained mess. Without a mirror, I couldn’t make sure my face was clean, but I did the best I could under the circumstances. Thankfully, I didn’t feel any of the mess in my hair. And now I had to throw yet another robe away.

Or did I?

Lightning struck in my mind, and I knew just what I had to do to kill more of these wretches. Level three, here I come!

Several hours and multiple practice runs later, I was ready to try my new ghoul hunting plan. Sensing one of the monsters nearby, I beat my dagger gently against my mace to create a nice soothing “tinging” sound. The key, I’d found, was to just be loud enough to attract the interest of one of them. My earlier attempts were too noisy and three or more of the bastards came running. And being patient hunters like they were, it took them forever to leave back to wherever they came from.

Cautiously, the stalking undead slipped out of a side hole. And if I hadn’t been tracking it with my spell, I wasn’t sure that I’d have spotted it at all. In a crouch, and with a dexterity that I absolutely envied, the ghoul slowly made its way in my direction.

It stopped only a dozen feet away, sniffing first the air, then the ground in search of a sound making morsel. Another light tap brought a few more steps in my direction.

Exactly like I’d hoped.

I took a step forward with my arms out, drawing its attention. The old man's hair on its mostly bald cone head whipped through the air as it fixated on me. Or, at least I think it did. It was really hard to tell with the way those creepy eyes spun around.

My animated hand dropped the robe like a net from the tunnel above, timing the distraction perfectly.

Now covered in a smelly garment, I leaped on it with Spring Forward and slammed my dagger into its head. The kill was practically instantaneous! Best of all, not a single lick of its disgusting innards got anywhere near my person. The tactic only further soiled the robe.

I can’t believe the shirt over the head always works so freaking well. I’m like the Sun Tzu version of a middle school bully.

Commanding the little animated hand to run back to me through the network took a lot of concentration, since I couldn't be up there with it. It was a bit like playing pac-man but with invisible walls. Once my little buddy returned, I handed it the robe again, and we recreated the laborious process of dragging it back up to the ceiling hole.

Fortunately, doing it a second time was much easier, and more importantly, faster.

We had to set up at a new place after that, but my spirits from overcoming the challenge were too high to get annoyed.