Sunlight streamed through the dense canopy in narrow shafts, casting beams upon a silent, black-robed figure moving quietly beneath the shadows.
Mortis continued walking forward, pushing through the thick undergrowth in the southern forests of the Kingdom of Khon Kaen. He had chosen to detour from the main road to avoid unnecessary encounters with humans. However, that decision had brought him dangerously close to a forbidden place—the Undead Grove.
It was said that this area was a gathering place for soulless creatures.
Mortis halted immediately when he saw a shadow—what looked like a walking corpse—limping out from the remains of a giant tree. He hid behind some branches, even though he knew these things couldn't see him. They had no instincts that reacted to his presence. It was as if he were one of them. Still, some ancient human instinct told him to stay hidden.
He pulled his cloak tighter around his form and began to creep forward, hoping to slip by unnoticed.
Even when the undead turned to face him, they showed no reaction. No movement. He passed by them as if he were air.
Once he had emerged from the grove, Mortis stumbled upon an abandoned carriage path. Deep wheel ruts were embedded in the dirt.
He stepped closer and found an old, bloodied carriage, toppled on its side beside the road. Blood trails led into the dark forest. A horse lay dead at the front—its ribcage exposed, as if something had savagely torn it open.
This was no ordinary wild animal—perhaps a goblin?
Mortis surveyed the area and then leaned in to check the belongings left inside the carriage.
A silver box had been pried open. Clothing trunks were shredded, fabric torn apart. All valuables had been looted, leaving behind only the stench of death.
Suddenly—
"Screeeeeam!!"
A woman's voice echoed from the direction of the blood trail, which stretched into the undergrowth like a crimson path guiding him toward the sound.
Mortis turned sharply and ran toward the source without hesitation.
As he rushed through the dense thickets, he felt something moving with him. Above him, branches rustled.
He looked up—something vanished into the shadows.
…Something was climbing through the trees above him…
Its shape was humanoid but hunched, moving with unnatural speed.
The blood trail ended at the mouth of a cave. Mortis hesitated for a moment… then stepped inside.
The cave was pitch black, but that posed no problem—his eyes could see in the dark as clearly as daylight.
He followed the trail deeper. The metallic scent of blood grew stronger with each step, until he reached—
Scattered human remains, both male and female, littered the cavern floor.
Arms. Legs. Heads. Organs. Torn and devoured. The cave walls were painted in gore, as if soaked in slaughter.
Shreds of adventurer clothing. A broken sword. A ripped coin pouch. Silver coins glinting across the ground.
As Mortis quietly examined the bodies, something beneath the pile of flesh began to stir...
He crouched down slowly—
One hand gripped the hilt of a short sword cautiously, eyes fixed on the movement.
As he gently parted the corpses... he found a young woman.
She was gravely injured—deep wounds along her side, scratches across her limbs, her entire body soaked in blood. Yet she was still breathing… barely.
Mortis reached out to check her pulse, but suddenly—
"GRAAAAARGH!!"
A roar echoed like a beast's shriek fused with a human scream. Heavy footsteps charged at inhuman speed.
Mortis snatched up the short sword and readied himself as a dark shape lunged at him!
Clang!
Claws struck, snapping his blade in half! It was a ghoul—its skin pale, its back hunched, leaping like a rabid animal. Its hollow eyes locked onto him.
The ghoul lunged again. Mortis raised his arm to block, taking the slash to his shoulder and falling backward. He crawled away, grabbing whatever was within reach—a shattered dagger, a severed head, a broken arrow.
The ghoul pounced again. Mortis used all his strength to stab it in the side! It howled and staggered but didn't fall!
"You are not a living thing. Do not fight like one."
The voice echoed in his mind.
He froze for a moment—and understood.
Grabbing the severed head beside him, he hurled it at the ghoul!
It struck perfectly—its jaw snapping shut mid-air!
The corpse's jaw clamped down on the back of the ghoul's head, biting hard!
"GRAAAARGH!!"
The ghoul screamed, thrashing in confusion. It had no idea how something dead could suddenly attack it.
It flailed, trying to shake the head loose. As the jaw ripped away, Mortis seized the moment to strike again—
WHAM!!
Another ghoul charged from the shadows, slamming Mortis into the cave wall!
He collapsed to one knee. The creature's claws grazed his face, tearing away the cloth that covered him.
His hood fell back, revealing—
A pale white skull and hollow, empty eyes.
Both ghouls froze, staring in confusion. Mortis stood slowly, just as confused as they were.
One of them began to tremble...
"AARGH!!" it shrieked and bolted from the cave!
The other stood paralyzed, watching a dark purple aura spread slowly from Mortis's body.
It stumbled backward in fear, then turned and fled as well.
Mortis stood there, slightly stunned.
"…I didn't even do anything," he muttered.
He gathered what remained in the cave—a travel bag, a rolled-up tent, bandages, and a red potion that smelled faintly of rust.
He carried the woman out and set up camp near a stream. There, he cleaned her wounds and poured the potion down her throat. After about five minutes, her wounds began to dry and scab over.
Using a damp cloth, he gently wiped the blood from her body.
As dusk fell, the woman slowly opened her eyes, startled.
She looked down at herself—her torso, arms, and legs were bandaged under a blanket. She turned toward the campfire, where the shadow of a man was grilling fish over a skewer.
"Who are you?!" she shouted, grabbing a sword nearby.
"You're safe now... I pulled you out of the ghouls' cave," Mortis said calmly, still tending the fish by the fire.
Bits of her memory returned.
"…I thought I was going to die…"
Mortis turned and offered her a grilled fish skewer.
"Eat. You must be starving."
She gave a faint smile and accepted it…
"Thank you so much... My name is Fern," she replied, placing her sword down to take the grilled fish from Mortis. She noticed how thin the body beneath his cloak looked, but brushed off her curiosity and began eating the fish with delight.
"And I am... Mortis."
She looked up—only to see a pale white skull reflecting the lantern light.
"Ah... Ha... Hah...!"
And she fainted on the spot.
Mortis scratched his bony head and chuckled softly.
"...Forgot to put on the face wrap again..."
He gently picked her up and carried her into the tent.
"Sleep well, Fern."
Mortis closed the tent, extinguished the lantern, picked up the coin pouch, and continued his journey... into the silence of the night.