He looked at his body realizing that he didn't have one or at least, not one he recognized. He looked like a smoky cloud that blended into the environment like a ghostly chameleon. He wondered how in the world this happened and looked over to the Hotel to see that the entire building looked as though it had caved in. He knew the place wasn't that stable but could it really just cave in like that? On his first day here no less. He suddenly comes to a grim realization as he looks over at the crowd forming around the rubble of the building; did he truly die?
"Minor Passive skill: Emergent Soul has been gained"
"Major Active skill: Dungeon Master's Will has been gained"
A piercing monotone voice stabbed through his thoughts and flooding him with information allowing him to realize what he had become. Somehow, the building collapsed and through death and some sort of other means, he had become a ghost. A Spector to be exact, being the lowest form of ghost. Emergent Soul connects directly to his form so he figures that if he can increase the skill, his form would reflect that in some way. He couldn't do much as a Spector; he had heard from adventurers that ghosts are often invisible but this felt more like he was in permanent camouflage so a keen eye could still spot something amiss. He also realized that he couldn't interact with the physical world, fly through objects, or even speak to other people leaving him greatly disappointed, so much so that he decides to focus on his other skill hoping that it would give him some way of contacting help.
Dungeon Master's Will would be an enigma for him if it weren't for the information streaming into his mind. He could sense various bodies of monsters within the sand of the beach and if he exercised his will, he could reanimate one of these and enforce his will upon them subjugating them into his personal servant. Moreover, he could place various traps around the beach and build structures from the sand that would stand stable even if their shapes would be unrealistic in his eyes. Each came with its own set of limitations, the information he was given told him that his soul was weak so possessing strong monsters would be a challenge but it was impossible to judge how strong a monster was in comparison to his soul. There was simply no indication to help him track the willpower of monsters forcing him to rely on guesswork.
Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
"Mythical beasts are a no go I'm sure. But what of Hobgoblins or Werewolves?" He said with a pondering gaze over the buried corpses.
He recognized a few monsters from his previous work with plant-life and decided to stick with what's familiar. He continued to narrow his options from there, discounting most other options for being too powerful for him to manage or simply not being able to move independently from the ground until he was left with one. The Desert Doom, it was a plant that looked similar to a brown cactus but it had spikes filled with earth magic that could rotate around its body creating a small sandstorm around itself as it moved. He wasn't sure how it got to a beach of all places but it was his safest option from the bunch.
He briefly puts that aside to look at the traps and structure building aspects of his ability. The information he received allowed him to create a few templates and even create some of his own but he wasn't that creative so he stuck with the pre-established templates. There weren't many to choose from and the ones he did have were extremely deadly with no alternative purpose so he had no use for them. He moved over to structure building and created a small tower of sand with ornate symbols on its walls allowing him to deduce the shape could be as complicated as he wanted it to be. He also knows that he can make it as big as he likes so long as it is confined to the beach which gives him a few ideas but realizes that none of this matters when he finds a priest to release his soul.
He assumes control of the Desert Doom and the sand shuffles as the small cactus emerges from the ground. He sends it to scout the nearby area for a community with a priest and it walks through the night of the town. It makes it to the entrance before a pair of heavy set men aim their firearms at it inserting two shots into its body causing it to disappear in a flash of moonlight. A few minutes later, it reforms back where it was buried with no injury.
This should've been predictable he thought, but he didn't think guards would still be at the entrance at this late an hour. Especially with the hotel only just recently collapsed. Fortunately, this showed him that he shouldn't be worried about his monster's well being since they'll just return to be resummoned. He thinks about what to do when he notices that the guards are approaching the beach....