Kays Translations
Just another Isekai Lover~
Chapter 47: The Undead Mud
Through the unrelenting rain, the party advanced cautiously toward the reddish-black mountain in the forest.
“So far, it shows no sign of movement…”
From a distance, its nature was impossible to determine. It reminded Gilbert and the others of the froglike swarm that attacked the village, yet its complete stillness felt unnatural and eerie.
They advanced while carefully observing the surroundings and occasionally destroyed undead beasts detected by the clergy. Far fewer medium-sized creatures appeared than expected.
Eventually the trees opened. Just before the dark-red mound stood a small house enclosed by a priest’s barrier.
“It looks like someone is here.”
“That house lies just inside the former barrier…”
The wagons and hoofbeats drew people from inside: an elderly Ziemeld knight and approximately five priests, all utterly exhausted. Shock filled their faces, and for a moment they could only stare.
“Master Clark! You’re alive!”
The younger Ziemeld knight appeared to know the old man as Clark.
“You guys… and you…!”
When Clark recognized Lionel among the approaching group, his face twisted as though he might weep.
“Sir Lionel ……!”
Clark dropped to his knees. The posture resembled a formal salute, but he also seemed too overwhelmed to stand.
Before anyone could hear his account, slight movement in the distant mound made every head turn.
“What…? That mountain just got a little lower, right?!”
“Look at the edge, it’s spreading …… a little bit. ……?”
It resembled muddy water slowly spreading and creeping across the ground.
“Could that be a slime—the kind found in ponds and swamps?”
“That color? You can’t mean a slime transformed into an undead beast!”
The mercenaries familiar with magical beasts murmured among themselves.
A slime was a small, amebalike mass of fungus transformed by magical energy. Though technically alive, its near-inanimate nature scarcely justified calling it a magical beast.
“It has unquestionably become undead… It resembles concentrated miasma.”
The clergy answered grimly.
The most plausible explanation was that rotting swamp mud had gathered and crawled forth with a will of its own. Its impossible size remained unexplained.
Its surface was reddish black and decayed, with patches like cloudy water. It could only be described as a moving mass of mud and putrid flesh.
“Look! Is that armor?”
Where one man pointed, part of a knight’s armor protruded from the mud.
“…Were the missing knights swallowed by that thing?”
Gilbert murmured. Seated on the ground, Clark raised his head painfully and tried to speak, but no words emerged. His reaction seemed confirmation enough.
“If it’s a slime, that knight might still be alive!”
The mercenary man spoke up.
“In that state?”
“Yes. Slimes vary, but most absorb living creatures and keep them in suspended animation while supplying nutrients and slowly consuming their magical energy.”
“Suspended animation? But someone swallowed by it would suffocate.”
“Look carefully at the upper surface. See those bubbles? It’s creating pockets of air so the creatures it captures don’t die.”
In the indicated area, a line of hideous large bubbles repeatedly swelled and burst like breathing organs.
“The question is how to extract him. Even destroying the creature seems impossible at this size…”
“Slimes ordinarily remain quietly at the bottom of swamps. Unless they multiply into an infestation and swallow people, there’s rarely any reason to exterminate them.”
“What do you do in those cases?”
“We spray them with oil and burn them. But fire won’t work against an undead creature.”
Hearing this, everyone sighed in distress.
“An ordinary slime is a tiny lump of mold. A blunt weapon might crush some of this, but how much could swords possibly remove?”
“We have no time to build a catapult here.”
Lionel frowned at his sword while a priest clutched a vial of holy water.
Silence descended as everyone thought.
Dolph, who had watched from the wagon’s driver’s bench with folded arms and closed eyes, looked up.
“It can’t be helped. At a time like this, we must use our secret weapon.”
“What is it, old man? Do you have a secret plan?”
Gilbert spoke eagerly, and every eye except Clark’s turned toward Dolph.
“…Ah. I see. You mean this battle-axe…”
Gilbert looked down at the weapon, its head wrapped in tanned leather against the rain. Laughing awkwardly, he removed the cover, revealing a blade glowing faintly in the rain.
“Safety first. If you decide it can’t be done, flee. Is everyone prepared?”
Upon hearing Dolph’s voice, Lionel also laughed awkwardly and nodded.
At the sight of Gilbert’s axe, Clark froze and caught his breath. He bit his lip, lowered his head as if casting something away, then looked up with determination.
“The duke’s villa stands where the slime is. His Excellency Duke Ziemeld was recuperating there.”
“…What?!”
Everyone, including Lionel, looked at the old knight with shocked expressions.
“I don’t know whether His Excellency still lives. But if possible, I want to save him. Please help us.”
He knelt and bowed in supplication.
“I can promise nothing. We’ll simply do what we can.”
Lionel replied with a grim expression, and Gilbert and the others nodded in agreement.
“Wasn’t a sorcerer’s barrier here until last night? It vanished when…”
“The sorcerer was swallowed by the Undead Mud last night. He can’t survive much longer; he had already reached his limit.”
Still kneeling, Clark forced out the bitter words like a penitent confession.
“The Undead Mud consists of fused undead beasts. Collected magical energy crystallizes inside it, and those crystals powered the barrier.”
“A perpetual engine that extracts magical energy? You tried to exploit that?”
Sydney, who had listened in silence, raised his voice.
“No. That was only a by-product. Once this is settled and we know whether His Excellency lives, I’ll tell you everything.”
Clark fell silent with bowed head, his shoulders trembling from fear or some other emotion.
The possibility of survivors left no time for further questioning. Led by Gilbert, everyone sprang into action.