Serin rose from the rocky river shore holding the blade still stuck in her neck. She felt no pain from the wound. Only the sense of wrongness of the foreign intrusion as the blade shook with her movement.

[Fog of Slumber] still lingered around the area. She had put a substantial amount of mana into the skill. So she was sure the fog had spread a fair distance and would last at least an hour. It was dense enough to obscure sight to the extent that one may not see their own hands extended out.

She refused to look down at the corpse of the man she had been eating. Even now she felt her instincts wanting to continue. That hunger gnawed at her mind with an incessant persistence. Serin was apathetic to the cannibalism. She simply couldn't allow herself to be beholden to her instincts. It was incredibly shameful to her to be seen as some drooling undead monster.

Serin moved on looking for the soldier that had tried to end her. She had watched that wretch the whole time. He was one of the better fighters of them. Although, that wasn't saying much as they struggled as against four poorly armed goblins.

Though her instincts had taken control of her body she had been able watch as she shambled onwards. It was a distant feeling trapped in her mind as the body moved without her. Serin had struggled the entire time trying to take control and push the hunger down.

So she had seen as that wretch let her feast on his ally. Presenting her own neck for him to slash. Slightly sated the hunger had been just barely weakened enough for her to arrest control to mitigate the blade's damage.

Although she had come close death she felt no fear. If anything she was deeply frustrated and angry. It was the most emotion she had felt since becoming a zombie. Serin felt that anger growing into a cold fury as she took in the sight of the soldier whos blade she currently hosted.

He was on his stomach deeply asleep through her skill. The man looked to be having pleasant dreams judging by the content look on his face. Serin kicked him over onto his back. In reaction the man only seemed to wiggle to get himself comfortable once again.

Serin had not planned to gather information this way, but with how her undead hunger had controlled her like that. She did not trust herself currently to go so close to their camp. So she would have to make do with what was available to her.

She sat on his chest and with her free hand grasped his forehead. Serin then cast [Nightmare]. Her consciousness was suddenly thrust into his mind and she found herself invading his dreams.

The man took no notice of Serin standing in what appeared to be his family home. The soldier and what Serin assumed was his mother and father were siting at a table. They were enjoying a meal together laughing and reminiscing about good past times.

[Nightmare] was a skill that did its namesake. Create nightmares for those she physically touched. It was better when the target was asleep, but could be used against someone lucid. The target just had a greater chance of resisting the skill. However, what was important to Serin was that with specific usage it could be used to gather information from those inflicted by the skill.

The skill was a bit of a dance where she was leading. Serin directed the setting of the dream and the soldier filled it in with his memories and imagination.

Serin walked over behind the man placing her hands on his shoulders and leaned forward.

"You're back at camp," she whispered in his ear.

The surroundings changed in a blurry mess reforming back into the forest she was now familiar with. Except here there was a small base camp full of activity as soldiers went about their business.

"You failed your superior."

His captain appeared before him. "How could you let those goblins get away! If they steal any more of our supplies it'll be cut from your rations! Supplies wont be here for another three weeks!"

"Sir, It was the others they weren't going for killing blows." The soldier attempted to defend himself.

"Excuses!" The captain spat at him. "I think this calls for a round of group training."

"Please, Sir! I can search for the remaining goblins. They couldn't have gotten too far."

"It's too late, scout Kordin. Everyone line up!"

Around twenty soldiers arrived in a single file line before the captain. In the captain's hand a wooden club appeared. He handed it off to the first soldier in line.

"Kordin, arms up and prepare yourself for training."

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Kordin as Serin now knew the name of this soldier grit his teeth but complied. He locked his arms above his head and took a wide stance with his legs.

The soldier with the club ran up and delivered a single heavy blow to Kordin's stomach. The soldier then passed the club to the next man and went to the end of the line.

"One!" Yelled the captain.

And like that Kordin's nightmare of punishment was carried out. Serin waited till twenty-seven was called out when she went behind the captain.

In the captain's ear, she whispered, "What is your duty?" In response the captain yelled out her words to Kordin.

"To serve and defend Trevin, Sir!" Kordin yelled out in between being clubbed.

It was a kingdom that Serin either couldn't remember or just didn't recognize.

"What is your mission?" Serin whispered to the captain.

"To find the cause of monsters disappearance, Sir!"

"What have you found?"

"We tracked most monsters moving deeper north, Sir! We have yet to discover why, Sir!"

Serin asked more questions to get a general layout of this land as well as more minor information about the Trevin Kingdom. By this point Kordin was slurring his words and coughing from the strain of yelling and being beaten. An imaginary pain, but one that he believed in.

She didn't learn much, but what she did discover through Kordin was useful. She exited the nightmare leaving him to his continued mental punishment.

Serin began slipping off a leather belt on waist that held his sword scabbard. Discarding the scabbard she loosely wrapped the belt around her shoulder.

"Time to return your blade, Kordin." Serin smiled as she carefully pried the sword from he neck. With half the muscles severed and now the blade removed her head gently swayed as she struggled to keep it balanced.

Serin started to wrap the belt around the end of the blade giving herself another hand hold. When it was tightened and she was confident it wouldn't slip, she gripped the blade two handed. Then she pressed its edge against Kordin's throat and slowly pushed down.

Kordin woke from the pain displeasing the slumber effect. His eyes widened in fear and his hands went to grab the blade. He tried to resist but was too weak to do so even if he wasn't exhausted from the earlier fight.

Serin had asked about his level in the [Nightmare] and at only level 25 his strength wasn't up to par. With only 25 attribute points to distribute he possibly had a maximum of 16 strength. Probably less since most tend to invest more in vitality during the early levels for survival's sake.

Serin doubled down her efforts and finally the blade went entirely through crashing against the river stone beneath. A notification rang out with his death. Serin ignored it for now.

With the smell human blood so overpoweringly close her, the intensity of her hunger was exceptional. However, there was something she wanted to test and who better than the man that nearly killed her. Serin let go of her resistance to the hunger.

She didn't watch as the barbarism of the act was embarrassing. It also cemented how far from human she was now and found that fact distasteful. The benefits of undeath were one thing. But this primitive desire to feed was a quality she felt was beneath her.

When she noticed her hunger had been sated, she retook control of her body. What first greeted her was a disgusting mess. She immediately went to the river to clean herself and clothes.

Feeling cleansed Serin finally took the time to check on her experiment. She felt around her neck and found the wound to be mostly closed. There was still a decent sized cut, but she no longer had to worry about her head bobbing around uncontrollably.

It was as she had suspected. She had found that fact she didn't bare many wounds suspicious the more she thought about it. A mindless zombie wasn't coordinated enough to not gather a surplus of cuts over a course of years in the woods. As such there must have been a way for her to heal. She didn't necessarily want the first test to involve a nearly severed neck. In the end she was just grateful it worked. Serin wasn't looking forward to the possibility that she needed to sew her wounds shut. Or worse need a type of necromancer to heal her. Serin could work with needed to eat to heal.

With that finished she began searching for the other soldiers in the fog. Serin wanted to loot them for anything useful as well as place a curse on each. Unfortunately, she only found three of them. It was somewhat surprising. Either he had been strong enough to resist the slumber or he was unlucky enough to be too far into the river when the skill was cast. If the later was the case he was long gone and certainly would have drowned along the way.

Serin was unconcerned with either result. These three soldiers would be sufficient. First she compared feet size to see if their boots would fit her. A long shot with her being a fairly petite woman all her life and shrunk some in her older age. Unsurprisingly, the boots would be much to large for her feet. They would end up doing more damage than simply walking bare foot would.

The only things of use to her at this point was a single dagger she took along with its belted sheath. She wore the belt over her tattered robe placing the sheath in the small of her back.

Finding nothing else she began to curse them. Serin was more interested in the side effect of a curse than the actual effects on the soldiers. She could sense whenever something bearing one of her curses come into a certain range of her. It was somewhat paranoid of her. However, if anyone at the Triven camp decided to pursue what happened here and they could track her down. She may just be able to have notice if one these scouts is sent after her.

Serin would rather take no chances if there was something she could do in advance to give herself an advantage. So she cursed them each with a minor effect of unluckiness. Named not after the grand ability manipulate fate for someone, but rather the affect of the curse. Which was simply a slight lack of motor skills. For the next few months the soldiers would find themselves tripping, stubbing their toes, dropping things, and other similar petty acts of misfortune. Serin wanted the curse to be mundane so that they wouldn't get suspicious and have a priest cure the curse.

Finished with the soldiers she once again started her trek. This time thanks to Kordin she had a destination. As luck would have it she learned that by following this river quite a significant distance to the east that she would come across a Trevin military port town. It was how their scouting camp was receiving their supplies. It wasn't much more than a dock and a few stationary buildings for the soldiers. However, a ship would take her away from this damned sunny land faster than she could on foot.