I sat still, motionless.
The only movement came from the faint flickering of mana crystals embedded in the cavern walls. Their cold light cast long, shifting shadows over the bloodstained floor. The scent of iron hung thick in the air, clinging to my skin, my tattered clothes, and the very marrow of my being.
Beside me lay what remained of Commander Paxion.
The meal had been necessary. The act itself is inevitable.
And yet…
I exhaled slowly, my hollow lungs pushing out air in a motion that served no purpose. My fingers curled slightly against the damp stone beneath me, the sticky residue of blood still fresh on my hands. My stomach was full, my hunger sated for now.
I needed a distraction.
I opened the Akashic Record, my eyes scanning the familiar flood of notifications from the battle.
[Skill: Wither’s Claw - Lv. 8 → Lv. 10]
[Skill: Fear - Lv. 4 → Lv. 7]
[Skill: Unarmed Combat - Lv. 6 → Lv. 8]
[Skill: Night Vision - Lv. 7 → Lv. 8]
[Skill: Inspect - Lv. 7 → Lv. 8 ]
[Skill: Mana Perception - Lv. 6 → Lv. 7]
[Trait: Blood Nourishment - Lv. 2 → Lv. 3]
[Trait: Undead Body - Lv. 8 → Lv. 10]
[Species: Witherling Zombie Lv. 9 → Witherling Zombie Lv. 11]
[9 Stat Points Available]
[Species Evolution Available]
My skills had improved across the board. My body had grown stronger, and most importantly, I had crossed the threshold, which was Level 10.
I should have been pleased. This was the goal, wasn't it?
But as I stared at the glowing text, my mind felt distant. Detached.
It didn’t feel like an accomplishment.
It felt like an inevitability.
I scrolled down absentmindedly, my gaze drifting past the notifications—until something unfamiliar caught my eye.
Something I had never seen before.
[Species Evolution Available]
I stared at the glowing text, the meaning settling in slowly.
Evolution?
I had never considered the possibility.
I knew I could grow stronger. But evolving? Changing into something beyond what I was now?
I took a slow, unnecessary breath.
I can… evolve?
A strange feeling coiled in my chest, a mixture of intrigue and unease.
Wouldn’t that mean I would grow stronger? It had to.
But what would I evolve into?
My mind grasped at the idea, trying to picture it. Would I remain a Witherling Zombie, just a stronger version? Or would I become something entirely new? Something more monstrous?
A part of me tensed at the thought.
I already barely feel like myself. What if this changes me even more?
I clenched my fingers.
It didn’t matter.
Strength was the only thing that mattered in this place. If evolution was the next step, I had no reason to hesitate.
I exhaled, my gaze flicking back to the notification.
“…Alright. Let’s see what’s next.”
- Feral Zombie
- Blighted Revenant
- Crimson Husk
- Graveborn Revenant
I narrowed my eyes as I read through the list, my mind racing through the possibilities. Four paths.
Each one leads to something new.
I took my time, scanning through them carefully.
"Instinct. Hunger. Madness. You are no longer a wandering corpse but a beast unchained, an apex predator among the dead. Your body will become faster, stronger, and more ferocious, but your actions will be ruled by raw, unfiltered instinct. Thought gives way to sensation, calculation to impulse. The thrill of the hunt will consume you."
It was tempting. It played into everything that had kept me alive so far. My battles relied on overwhelming power, relentless pressure, and sheer aggression.
But there was a cost.
The last sentence gnawed at me.
"Thought gives way to sensation. Calculation to impulse."
I had been fighting like a monster, thinking like a monster, losing myself more and more in battle. The massacre of the knights... that had been proof of it.
Would this take me even further down that path?
Would I still be me?
I exhaled slowly, my grip tightening.
Strength was important. Survival was everything.
But this wasn’t just about power.
This was about who I would become.
I moved on.
"Decay incarnate. Your body is a vessel of disease, your very presence a harbinger of ruin. Your attacks will spread rot and affliction with unparalleled potency. Wounds inflicted by your hand will fester, turning flesh to sludge, bone to dust. This path leads only to inevitable corruption."
I tensed.
This was… powerful.
A creature of unrelenting decay, a being that spread ruin just by existing.
I had seen what my Wither’s Claw could do, how rot could spread through my enemies, eating away at them until nothing remained.
This would make me a walking embodiment of that destruction.
But… I wasn’t sure I wanted that.
Was I truly willing to become a walking biohazard?
I gritted my teeth and kept going.
"Blood calls to blood. You are no longer a mere corpse—you are a vessel of carnage. The life force of your enemies fuels you, their blood becoming your weapon, your sustenance, your power. You will carve through flesh with unrelenting hunger, feeding upon the vitality of those who fall before you."
I paused. Blood?
That was… unexpected.
Actually, it scared me.
It felt dangerous.
Not in terms of power but in dependency.
Would it turn me into something that needed to consume blood?
I clenched my jaw. No.
I was already learning to deal with my hunger, and I wasn’t in the mood to deal with a new feeding regime.
Besides I said it before, I prefer zombies over vampires.
Which left me with one final option.
"You are neither living nor dead, but something in between, a contradiction given form. You walk among the lifeless, yet your mind refuses to rot. You chase after life even as your body denies it. You are an undead that refuses to be just undead, a revenant with purpose, cursed to hunger yet unwilling to be consumed by it. Your form is strengthened by death, but your mind remains sharp, adapting and evolving beyond what should be possible. The grave has no hold on you, and the instincts of both predator and survivor have been honed to perfection. You will never be truly alive, but perhaps, just perhaps, you will be more than just a monster."
I exhaled slowly, reading it twice.
It didn’t offer overwhelming power or nightmarish abilities.
No curses. No madness. No mindless hunger.
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Just… balance and improved abilities.
Just me.
I exhaled.
It wasn’t the strongest choice or the most terrifying.
But it was the only one that fit.
I was a contradiction. A creature of undeath that still thought like the living. A being that killed monsters yet envied humans.
I had never truly given in. I had never let myself fully become what I was.
And now…
Now, I was making that choice again.
Slowly, my decayed fingers reached out, and I confirmed the evolution.
Then, the world collapsed around me.
A deep, suffocating pressure crushed my body, twisting through my flesh like invisible chains. My muscles burner,d and my bones felt like they were splintering apart.
A wave of raw, overwhelming energy exploded through me, slamming into my very being like a physical force.
It burned.
My body locked up, muscles tensing as something deep within me shifted and rebuilt itself.
Flesh peeled away, flaking into nothing, only for something denser, reinforced to take its place.
My bones snapped and reformed, thickening, growing stronger.
It was like my body was being destroyed and healed at the same time.
I clenched my teeth as the Akashic Record flared to life in my mind.
[Evolution in Progress...]
My vision swam, the cavern walls blurring as my senses flickered between agony and clarity.
My thoughts turned sluggish for a moment—then sharpened like a blade.
It was happening.
My body was changing.
I could feel the strength, the new power settling into my bones, into my limbs, into every inch of me.
Just a little more.
Just a bit longer.
And then—
The Akashic Record stuttered.
[ERROR. SYSTEM INTERFERENCE DETECTED.]
[WARNING: UNSTABLE DATA RECONFIGURATION…]
[UNLOCKING FRAGMENTED SKILL...]
My body seized.
A sharp, unnatural pull surged through my mind like something was being forcefully ripped open.
I didn’t know what it was—
I didn’t understand—
Something broke.
Something slipped through.
The world tilted.
I felt myself falling.
Then—
Darkness.
[UNLOCKING FRAGMENTED SKILL...]
[SKILL: ######### OF ###### ACTIVATED…]
I found myself back in the sea of darkness, similar to when I had first awakened as a zombie. After floating for a short while, my mind went blank as it recalled a memory of my past, from before my death.
[ACCESSING FOREIGN ENTITY DATA…]
The memory played in my mind like a dimly lit scene on an old, flickering screen. It was distant yet vivid, as though I were watching someone else’s suffering unfold—but the pain, the desperation, felt far too real to belong to anyone but me; the scene became clearer and clearer until it felt like I had been transported into it.
When I opened my eyes, I had been lying on the freezing, filthy stone floor of a dark, suffocating cell. My entire body throbbed with relentless pain, my chest barely rising with each shallow, labored breath. The dim light of the moon had pierced through a barred window above me, its faint glow mocking my wretched state.
Chains had dug into my raw wrists and ankles, leaving bruises and bleeding wounds. I could almost feel the sharp bite of the cuffs against my skin again, the clinking sound of the chains when I’d tried—and failed—to shift my weight.
There had been a rat. It had crept closer, cautious yet curious, scurrying toward my face as though to inspect whether the broken body was alive or dead. I hadn’t even had the strength to swat it away.
Then it had frozen and bolted, startled by the echo of approaching footsteps.
The man who entered was beautiful. Almost ethereal in his presence, the kind of beauty that belonged in grand halls and royal courts, not in the depths of a rotting prison cell. His golden hair cascaded in effortless waves, the dim moonlight catching each strand as though the very world conspired to make him shine. His features were delicate yet sculpted, his sharp jawline softened by the warmth of his smile—a smile that did not reach his striking emerald eyes.
Eyes like a summer field. Eyes that held not a trace of warmth.
He carried himself with effortless grace, his posture straight, his steps slow and deliberate as if he had all the time in the world. His finely tailored coat, dark with intricate gold embroidery, was pristine, untouched by the filth of the cell around him. Every motion, every glance, exuded refinement, a carefully cultivated elegance that made his presence feel almost comforting—if not for the overwhelming sense of wrongness that clung to him like a shroud.
He exuded kindness, yet my body shuddered in fear that he was anything but kind.
He knelt, his soft, gloved fingers reaching out to brush a stray strand of matted hair from my face. It was a gentle touch, one that should have been reassuring—but instead, it sent a wave of ice through my veins.
False.
Everything about him was false.
The man sighed, shaking his head with an air of mock disappointment as if he were consoling a misbehaving child rather than addressing a battered prisoner.
“Poor Lucian.” His voice was smooth, almost pitying, carrying the practiced gentleness of someone who had played the role of a benevolent noble for far too long. My name fell from his lips like a word spoken in passing—empty, detached, hollow. A name that no longer felt like my own.
He crouched beside me, gloved fingers idly brushing the grime from his pristine coat. His emerald eyes, brimming with fabricated warmth, swept over my mangled form before he gave me a small, rueful smile.
“I heard you and Fennick had quite the time today.” His tone was light and conversational as if discussing weather or court gossip rather than the hell I had endured. “I suppose I can’t blame him. He must have been excited—” he paused, a touch of amusement creeping into his voice, “—since today was your last time together.”
My breath hitched.
Last time?
The words slithered through my fogged mind, sinking in like slow poison. My cracked lips parted, and I forced out a single, broken whisper.
“Last… time…?”
The pain in my throat seared, sending another violent tremor through my body. A ragged cough tore from my lungs, splattering fresh blood onto the cold stone beneath me.
His smile widened as if pleased with my struggle.
“Oh yes.”
There was no malice in his voice, no overt cruelty—just cheerful indifference, a detached amusement at my suffering. He rose to his feet, straightening his coat with the meticulous grace of a man untouched by the filth around him.
“We’re going on a trip today,” he said lightly, adjusting the golden cuffs on his sleeves. “Unfortunately, you won’t be coming back.”
He tilted his head, watching me with something akin to curiosity, waiting—expecting—to see fear bloom across my face.
It did.
My chest clenched, a sharp, suffocating panic flooding through my veins.
No. No, no, no.
He leaned closer, lowering his voice to a whisper as if sharing a kind little secret.
“But look on the bright side, Lucian.” His fingers ghosted over my tangled, blood-streaked hair, a touch so gentle that it made my stomach churn. “At least you’ll finally leave this wretched cell.”
Cold.
The chill in his voice was deeper than the freezing air, deeper than the stone beneath me, deeper than the wounds carved into my flesh. It was the kind of cold that sank into the bones and never left.
Then—
Heavy footsteps.
Two figures entered.
One was a mountain of a man, his bald head glistening in the dim torchlight, his brutish features locked in an expression of detached professionalism. The other, clad in crimson robes, stood silently at his side, his hood casting a deep shadow over his face. Strands of black hair framed the sliver of his exposed features, but his eyes remained hidden in the darkness.
Both bore the same symbol—a black sun.
The tattoo was etched into the brute’s forearm. The golden embroidery stitched into the robed man’s chest.
My breath came in short, rapid bursts. My limbs refused to move. My body was screaming at me to run, but there was nowhere to go.
I knew—deep down, in the pit of my soul—this was it.
The bald one had grabbed me as though I weighed nothing, lifting my broken body off the floor. Pain had erupted through every nerve as my limp frame had dangled in his grasp. The hooded figure had stepped forward, holding a vial of dark red liquid that had caught the moonlight like blood.
I had tried to resist, weakly jerking my head, but it had been futile. He had forced the bitter liquid down my throat, and the moment it touched my tongue, a strange numbness had spread through me.
“Calder,” the robed man had said, his tone commanding, “load him up. We’re leaving in five.”
My vision blurred and darkened as the vial’s contents worked through me. The cold stone walls had faded into nothingness, and the last sound I had heard was the echo of footsteps, growing quieter as I drifted into the void.
I had been too weak to comprehend what was happening fully, but even now, as I watched the memory replay, I felt the same chill of fear, the same dread sinking into my very core. And then, as it always did, the memory ended, leaving me with nothing but questions and the echo of my own name—Lucian.
[INTEGRATING FOREIGN ENTITY DATA FOR ENTITY 194573…]
[UPDATING DESIGNATION…]
[EXISTENCE FRAMEWORK RESTORED.]
[ENTITY 194573 → LUCIAN]
[LOCKING FRAGMENTED SKILL...]
[SKILL: ######### OF ###### LOCKED]
[SYSTEM RECONFIGURATION IN PROGRESS…]
[EXISTENCE CODE: 194573 HAS BEEN LINKED TO DESIGNATED IDENTITY.]
[WELCOME BACK, LUCIAN.]
The moment the memory ended, I felt like I had been ripped from another world and thrown back into my body.
The darkness of the labyrinth surrounded me once more, but my mind was somewhere else—somewhere colder.
Lucian.
That was my name. Lucian.
Not a title, not a classification from the Akashic Record—a name.
It rang in my mind, foreign yet familiar, like an echo of something I should have never forgotten.
I had a name. I had a past.
And I had been betrayed.
My body was sore, but there was no physical pain compared to the hollow ache blooming in my chest. My fingers twitched as I clutched at the stone beneath me. It was real, solid, but my mind was still there.
I had been imprisoned, beaten, and tortured.
And then taken, presumably to die.
The sensation of chains biting into my skin lingered.
I could clearly recall all of what I'd experienced then.
The sharp clinking sound. The icy chill of the stone floor beneath my cheek. The rat that had scurried toward me, mistaking me for a corpse.
And then—him.
The man with golden hair and green eyes. The man whose voice carried a practiced warmth that never reached his gaze.
The man who had spoken my name as it belonged to a toy he had grown tired of.
A sharp, nauseating wave of hatred surged through me.
The betrayal, the cruelty, the helplessness—I had lived it once, and now I had to remember it.
And yet…
I knew nothing beyond what I had just seen.
Where had I been taken? What happened next? Who was I before all of this?
Who was I supposed to be?
A sickening realization coiled in my gut.
Even with this memory, I still wasn’t whole.
The Akashic Record had temporarily unlocked the fragmented skill—but I had no way of knowing if this were all I would get or if more memories would resurface in time.
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palm as I tried to steady myself. I had no answers. No direction.
But one thing was certain.
This hadn’t been a natural death. I had been stolen from my life.
And whoever had done this…
I would find them.
I would remember.
And when I did…
They would regret ever letting me wake up.
[EVOLUTION SUCCESSFUL]
[You have transcended your former existence.]
[Witherling Zombie → Graveborn Revenant]
[All base stats have increased.]
[New abilities have awakened.]
[You Have Gained the Skill: Detection]
[You Have Gained the Trait: Enhanced Physique]
[You Have Gained the Trait: Enhanced Cognition]
Skill threshold exceeded. [Wither’s Claw - Lv 10] has evolved into [Necrotic Reach - Lv. 1].
Trait threshold exceeded. [Undead Body - Lv 10] has evolved into [Abyss-Touched Vessel- Lv. 1].
Chapter End…
Akashic Record
Name: Lucian
Race: Demonic Beast
Species: Graveborn Revenant
Rank: Fiend
Class: None
Level: 11
Titles: Cannibal
Strength: 35
Intelligence: 50
Endurance: 32
Vitality: 36(+5)
Agility: 40
Stat Points Available: 9
Skills:
Night Vision - Lv. 8
Necrotic Reach - Lv. 1
Inspect - Lv. 8
Unarmed Combat - Lv. 8
Mana Perception - Lv. 7
Fear - Lv. 7
Detection - Lv. 1
######### of ###### - Lv. Locked (Remnant - Unusable)
Traits:
Abyss-Touched Vessel - Lv. 1
Blood Nourishment - Lv. 3
Enhanced Physique - Lv. 1
Enhanced Cognition - Lv. 1