Murphy’s misguided thoughts didn’t last long. No matter how much he daydreamed, he could never transform into those famous detectives from other tales. So, he resorted to a more fitting method for his world and era to investigate the deaths—by asking the dead themselves.
A dark glow, signaling the resurrection of monsters, slowly enveloped the three corpses on the ground. Not much time had passed since Murphy had last imposed a 'tax collection' (exploded them for loot), so these demon officials didn’t leave behind anything particularly tempting in their passing.
After sacrificing five levels, the humanoid lords rose languidly from the earth. Brue, essentially a puddle to begin with, also found a semblance of vigor restored.
Surveying the trio, Murphy noted their states. The undead's naturally pale complexion became even ashier, the goblin struggled to stand steady, and Brue incessantly altered his shape on the ground, as though still adjusting to his revived form. It was a normal reaction—handling a downgrade was physical, but reconciling it with a spirit accustomed to greater power was another matter entirely.
After a brief moment, the recently resurrected lords had stabilized. Seeing them recover, Murphy, standing opposite, posed his question, “Can anyone enlighten me on how they met their demise?”
Caught off guard by the Demon Lord's inquiry, the lords began to recount their final moments. After a brief discussion, they offered Murphy an unexpectedly bizarre explanation: “It seems they died from a sense of fullness and warmth.”
The demons explained they felt the poison inherent in the tuber unfold, but for creatures like them, that level of venom was nothing—especially not for Lord Bacon. Having dwelled in the miasma swamp for countless years, he not only boasted complete immunity to lesser poisons but wielded toxic skills with ease. That little poison was hardly fatal.
The others agreed, while toxins could harm them, they weren't lethal. The true culprit was the mysterious force that filled their bodies just before death, like an infinite surge of piping hot gas filling a balloon until it bursts.
Slime's senses were particularly sharp. Brue elaborated on that swelling, warming sensation, but couldn’t pinpoint an energy source. If pressed to guess, it likely derived from the peculiar tuber.
Armed with his minions’ reports, Murphy began his own analysis.
In everyone's mind, demonic plants entwined with ominous and alien vibes, much like the demons themselves. Whether it was the unruly shrubs in the barren hills, the perpetually crimson soil in the Crimson Mountains, or the Ghostly Woods which appeared like dark labyrinths, it seemed impossible for demonic flora to ever be as normal as the crops on human lands.
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Even sowing human seeds in demonic earth, most perished mysteriously during growth. The few that reached fruition bore little resemblance to their normal counterparts.
Thus, Murphy had delegated the lowly, numerous demon kin to commence small-scale farming experiments. Little did he expect, these endeavors intended to yield modified crops or poison weapons instead produced a bomb brimming with immense energy, seemingly unrelated to gunpowder...
Could he deduce, then, that the energy killing the demon lords had nothing to do with the malevolent mana endemic to the demon lands?
If so, it suggested an external force interfering with the soil, at least within the barren hills and miasma swamp regions.
Contemplating this, Murphy reassured the freshly revived lords and instructed them to resume their duties. He then embarked on his investigation.
Efficiency soared when the Demon Lord acted solo, particularly regarding speed.
Within an hour, Murphy had gathered plant samples from over a hundred locations in the realm for study.
And his research approach?
“I’m an expert at botanical studies. Are the plants in the demon realm poisonous? Just one taste will tell me.”
So declared Mr. Demon Lord.
As expected, sampling a variety of flora indeed reproduced phenomena similar to those described by the demon lords. Murphy sensed non-toxic energy amassing and bursting within him, its pitiable attempt at harm laughable against his formidable constitution.
Alas, these unusual energies were mere tickles on Murphy’s enduring frame.
After a comprehensive tasting, from assorted leaves to blossoms, Murphy concluded—not all plants harbore
d that peculiar energy.
Being a meticulous botanist (a title newly self-bestowed), Murphy documented sensations induced by the sundry vegetation on parchment. Returning to the palace, he retrieved a dust-laden map of the demon realm and commenced marking his findings.
Connecting data points from weakest to strongest, a pattern emerged. The deep realm's energies lessened, while near the Lightless Tomb, miasma swamp, and barren hills, even wild grasses teemed with this power.
“Hmph, who dares disrupt my realm’s ecosystem?” Murphy sneered, then realized he’d overlooked a critical area—the narrow buffer that separated demons and humans: The Wastelands.
"Seems I need more samples for experimentation." Murmuring to himself, Murphy activated a portal, commencing his next sampling round.
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Character Profile:
Name: Byron·Reed
Level: 25 (Demon Lord)
Age: 20 (alive) + 90 (undead)
Race: Skeleton (Transformed)
Occupation: Undead Knight
Overview: A broad skeleton with lively demeanor in life, now reserved and taciturn. Loyalty has always been paramount, whether alive or undead, and when in biomimetic form, appears as a composed, middle-aged man.
Abilities: Master at unarmed combat, Reed family swordsmanship, and beginner sword qi projection.
Special Abilities: [Intact Soul], [Skeleton Command].
A Little Secret: Sometimes wishes Seth would call him "Great-Uncle."