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Bakenekro [A Dungeon LitRPG]
Chapter 1: The infected mercenaries - 1

Chapter 1: The infected mercenaries - 1

The dead in the universe disappear from their world of origin. At least under normal circumstances. For decomposition, incineration, disintegration, predation, or many other reasons. The point is that their body is not preserved intact in that world.

The roots of the cosmic tree absorb the deaths and regenerate them in the canopy: the membrane in the starless sky of the Underwasteland.

Once they become too heavy, the bodies rain to the ground, and it is up to me—the [Empress] of this land—to give them welcome and refreshment.

I put them to sleep with my [Judgment], condemning them to an eternity of dreams or nightmares.

I do not know how it works. But I know this lottery that follows System rules over which I have no decision-making power.

Who knows if the next deceased will be destined for an eternity of dreams?

It is increasingly heartening and pleasant to issue a [Dream] sentence.

Tracing lines with my feet and tails in the sand, I wait for that body to rain. Corals are everywhere and have formed iridescent filaments similar to the fungal structure.

Constructions of errors, that I do not know how to resolve.

Worries are overcome by curiosity. The environmental problem is certainly not a problem for newcomers.

I hope it is someone interesting. I want to have a chat and hear some interesting stories.

From the size of the patch in the membrane, I can say it is a humanoid. Maybe an explorer, an entrepreneur, a hero. Everyone is fine. Well, perhaps, not a presumptuous one.

Those often manage to make me regret my curiosity.

It is not that they are bad, but sometimes their little stories are so inflated and ridiculous that I have to keep from laughing. So as not to offend them.

Sigh.

It is hard to play the [Empress].

Ci-cin.

Oh, here, the first drops fall.

I step back and see the flecks of membrane absorbing into the sand.

Afterward, a black mass hits the ground.

I lean my head forward and stand on tiptoe.

Muscular body with broad shoulders.

“Ha, AHHH! Bleh, cough!” The individual coughs and jerks up from the slime.

He looks at the sky and cracks his back, shoulders, and neck.

“GAHHHH!”

He opens his arms and lets out a battle cry. He is unarmed and wearing only a pair of breeches reinforced by rusty plates. He sports a physique with dark and imposing muscles.

Surely, he is a [Warrior] or some [Hunter] type. Physiques like this are rare in humanoids, except orcs.

Ci-cin.

When the man calms down and relaxes his muscles, I bow and lower my ears; in reverence.

“Welcome, I am N, the Empress of this land.”

“Um… where are the promised liquor and banquets? You're cute, weird with those tails and ears.”

“Eh, er…” I raise my head and notice that the big man looks around and scratches his bald forehead.

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He runs a hand through his thick beard and looks back at me.

“Never mind, I'll be happy since I'm here now. Come on, servant, make me rejoice.”

Embarrassment and modesty prevent me from accepting those words.

I perfectly understood what he meant. I have to take another approach.

“Sir, I think you misunderstood. If you want to talk to me, I will listen to you. We can also play chess…” thinking back to the chessboard now transformed into a plant, “No, chess is better not to.”

“Chess? Which is?”

“A game…”

“Uh, I have a game, servant, you have to…” the man looks around. “Of course, with this desert, there isn't a house around here?”

His tone of voice annoys me. But I pretend nothing happens. Perhaps he has not yet realized that he is dead, and perhaps—in front of the border house—he will understand that he is no longer in his world.

“My house is nearby. I can escort you.”

“You're enthusiastic about it, huh? You'll see that I'll put you in a good mood, you're here to serve me, right?”

The man reaches out to grab me, and I instinctively move away.

“Hey! Are you being difficult?”

Intrusive. He does not seem to know any manners.

How can he invade a stranger's space like this?

Holy patience.

Maybe I could intimidate him for a moment. Just, to get him straight.

[Dungeon path]

I appear behind him.

“HUH!?”

“I have to take you home. Do you remember?”

“What!? That darkness…”

[Dungeon path]

We emerge onto the veranda.

The man is shocked. I hold a corner of his trousers and leave them.

{N… N, come early!}

A voice in my head. What will it mean?

“Hey, witch! What kind of joke is this!?” The man points his finger at me, annoyed.

I leave that strange mental voice aside and bow slightly. Despite the insult received. “I brought you to my house. My name is N, please no epithets.”

“How dare you, witch! I am the great and heroic Kul-Salla, a human fighter and beast hunter. Today, I was to receive the reward agreed upon by my upright faith.”

Ah, nothing new.

The universe is large enough to accommodate at least several thousand different religions.

Of these, very few—like that of Sylviette's Empire—know of the existence of the Underwasteland. And—in Sylviette's case—she knew her nation because she was in trade with the [Devil].

So, no surprises. This man is probably seeing his dream of the afterlife shattered.

Maybe I can fix it.

For the umpteenth and final time, I take a bow. It is a little deeper than the others. I hope it helps to put the man at ease.

“Mighty Kul-Salla, to receive the prize you said, it is necessary to pass a test.”

“Huh, proof? And will a little woman like you be the one to evaluate the outcome?”

Even though his voice does not sound angry anymore, I cannot deny that I am not.

This man's attitude is irritating!

If it were not for that, I am looking at my toes with my head bowed, he would surely see my polemical look.

{N, I know you hear me. This skill is made on purpose. Please reply as soon as possible. Can you figure out where I am?}

That voice is in my head again.

It is familiar.

Could it be the voice of a dream?

Yet I never dreamed, not even when I died…

Ci-cin.

“So, you will be the one to subject me to this test, AH! Monster! Monster and witch! Wait a minute, it doesn't hurt.”

I snap my head up.

My snake-headed tail bit and wrapped the man's hand.

He wiggles his arm and tries to free himself with his other hand.

Strange that my tail acted up. Although, I do not fully control the limb. I cannot tell whether it has willpower or, not—did he attack me!?

“Did you try to attack me!?” As I say, my tail releases it.

He brings his arm back to his chest. The bite is visible on his wrist.

“What to attack and attack you, witch! You are here to serve me and you dare to resist? I just wanted to grab you by the hair for your lack of respect! But now I think it will be better to cut these tails off.”

Um, no. Better to take action.

Attacking me means you get [Nightmare] from my [Judgment] ability. It is a security measure by the System, I am convinced.

But I do not enjoy condemning people for this reason, thus falsifying their life path. Ruining a good result because of a moment of weakness…

…is sad.

I do not want it to end like this, even if this guy is so unpleasant that—okay, better not think about it.

I raise my arm.

“Hey! What are you going to do? If you rebel you will only get worse…”

[Judgment]

[Judgment: Dream]

No surprise. The System and I, are not managed by the same index of values.

The man starts to pulverize and looks scared at me.

“Witch, what have you done!? What have you done!? I'm disintegrating, I'm disintegrating!”

I smile at him. Imagine if I console him, let me enjoy these moments of revenge. Soon, he will have eternal dreams, and we will never meet again.

The man disappears in despair and is overhanded with his prize. I would never want to be part of his dream. I get shivers just thinking about it.

In his place, a cloud of ash remains. A coral sprout appears between the planks of the veranda.

Worried, I bend down to look. They are coming here too…

I should have used [Scan]. Maybe that guy was a [Hero]. And he needed to be taken to Whirlpool.

I doubt it. But, at least, even if it, he went to the crypt. The [lv: 5] surpassed by him. Sure. I acted on impulse. That is the result,

a small mistake. That accumulates as its species overflows. I wish I had a solution to the [Devil]'s effects, but I cannot think of anything.

Or rather, there is something in my head. Something blurry that seems more like a fantasy than a memory.

Meh. I get back on my feet and breathe in the desert breeze. I look at the sky on the horizon. There are flashes.

No rain on the horizon.

Ewh. I am going back home to make some tea.