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[37] Walking Dead

The wind blew the scent of blood into the air and rustled the leaves behind the group. The shadows of the boy squirmed and moved with restlessness, his dark cloak dancing until his steps became none and he stood beneath them—so still he became that they really did come to believe him inhuman.

They watched below, crimson river reflected in their eyes, blades at the ready, and anticipation building. They wished he were not an enemy, wished he wouldn't suddenly take the mass of beasts to attack them, but adventurers and soldiers were careful people. His ghastly blue eyes that flickered like flames did not do much to compel them from caution.

Behind the boy, sounds slowly died as beasts killed one another. Seconds trickled, bloody seconds, and soon the last of them fell in a pool of its own gore amidst the river.

Finally, when all was quiet, and still, the figure opened its lips.

"Excuse me!"

The voice that came out was less monstrous than they thought it would be. In fact, it appeared too normal. Normal and weary, with a pinch of fear in it. The blue orbs of the boy fluttered like gas, or smoke, and shook as he spoke.

"Are you here to help me?"

The boy shouted from a hundred feet below them. Help him? They tilted their heads. What could they possibly help him with? He had just walked through a massacre of beasts, unarmed in the least, they could not do the same.

Via Goodwill was the first to reply, pointing one of her short swords down and twisting it within the air.

"The fuck are you on about?"

Claire frowned.

She lacked the concern the rest of them held as she knew what the boy was. They might not believe him a hero, but she had yet to meet an instance where a Sacred Text lied. Of course, merely being a hero did not automatically make the encounter good, but it did negate the treatment the group had of him. He was not a beast nor a monster.

'Well. . .he's a ghost,' She corrected herself.

"I think we should meet him," She said.

Puzzled eyes fell on her. Evidently, these soldiers and conscripted adventurers were not the type to wander off to take a glance at an unknown danger.

"Meet him?" Albert Stref stroked his chin, then nodded. "That seems to be the only choice for now. Would you three do the pleasures? Claire, Alicia, and Via?"

He spoke to Claire, Via, and a bored-looking Alicia, then faced the adventures, pointing to the armor-clad individual with a crossbow strapped to his back. Save for the two mages the team had, he was the only person there with a ranged weapon.

"Allen, could you?"

"On it," A contorted voice replied, kneeling down and aiming his weapon at the ghost-like boy.

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"Wha—what are you doing!?" The 'hero' cried out in alarm, eyes of ethereal blue jumping in his sockets, the face under the hood only recognizable as pale.

"We're sending our 'envoys' down," Albert yelled back. Letting the words 'strongest three' die in his mind. "Stay where you are, would you?"

"That's. . ." The boy murmured to himself, then spoke, "Alright! Please, I just want to get out of here!"

Azure swirled in the air and a platform of ice was birthed into the world with a wave of Claire's hands. Any ice she made could be controlled however way, shape, or form she sought. So, technically, only she could bring a group of three down a cliff's edge—as Alicia still refused to transform into a "big bat" and carry others on her back.

"How much mana do you have? Fighting you was a bit of a pain in the ass." The bunny narrowed her eyes skeptically as she gazed at the structure.

"The cost of freezing something with a touch costs me so little mana that I can recover that in an instant," Claire smiled, "Summoning ice and anything else that extends my mana, now that's when I might worry."

Yet, she wasn't as worried as her sentence might suppose.

"With a mana rank of A, I suppose I'll be fine unless a fight drags on for too long."

As far as she could tell, since she had entered this world, her mana had maybe went down to 75% at the most. Simply put, she had killed her enemies too fast for a sufficient dent to be made.

"Freaks," Via gripped her two short swords, a mass of a golden chain flowing around her like water, as she stepped upon the ice-bed.

Claire merely smiled and followed her steps with Alicia. Like that, the structure came down until they were face to face with the ghostly boy.

"Ah. . .thank you," The boy said as soon as they stopped. His voice stammered and he quickly spoke, bowing down. "Please help me get out of this place! Fast!"

He came back up and they finally caught a whiff of the face under the cloak. Black hair, azure eyes, and a face youthful but pale. He seemed like a kid. A kid that had only just entered his teenage years at best. Claire realized he was maybe an inch or two shorter than her.

"What's the rush? I don't think you will be dying anytime soon," The ice queen said.

"Excuse me. . .?" The individual in question tilted his head. His expression, at least what they could make out, seemed perplexed.

Alicia walked forward and brought her nose closer to him. She sniffed as he recoiled.

"You lack the scent of the living," Alicia said. In her own way, she went about realizing what Claire did. "There won't be any blood coming from you. You're dead."

The figure stumbled back from her nose, blue eyes focused on the one visible fang protruding from her teeth. He gulped, then shook his head.

"Dead? Can't be. I'm lost, please help me out of this place."

"Huh?" She tilted her head and blinked her eyes. "You're dead, lost or not."

She was curt, and direct, and Claire nodded alongside her.

"Are you mad? I'm right here. I'm not dead, that makes no sense."

Both Claire and Alicia took a moment to consider the boy stupid.

"Umm. . .what's going on?" The bunny asked.

"He's dead," Claire said, "Which is odd."

"I am not!" The boy refuted.

"No, you're dead," The vampire replied, the visible eye of her half-mask shining crimson. "My doesn't work on you."

Her lips pursed at that thought as if she were irritated by the mere notion of it. He did not smell of the living, and a skill to show him a fantastical death did not work, what else could he be but already long dead?

"She's right," Claire said.

She took a step closer, freezing red below her feet, and nodded.

"You are, most definitely, dead. Have you not checked your Sacred Text recently? Or were you just born a Ghost?"

Ghostly, blue, eyes shook.

"Umm, no? How do I do that?"

"For fucks sake," Via cursed, her patience breaking down and her short swords disappearing from her grasp alongside her chain. "You're a village bumpkin, aren't you? How the hell did you get into this dungeon?"

Her bunny ears twitched with her irritation as she glared down at the boy who reached only to her chest.

The azure orbs of the boy fluttered.

"This. . .is a dungeon?"

". . ." Claire.

". . ." Alicia.

". . .ugh." Via.