When morning dawned, it was unreal.
The world that had screamed and clawed and groaned so many hours before lay still now — dead again, as if the night had been a dream.
The sunlight filtered through the openings in the clouds, and the old country was warmed. The air still retained the faint edge of decay, but even that was fading.
I sat against the wall of the ruined farmhouse we'd taken shelter in, staring at the scattered ashes of what used to be the undead. "So they really just. vanish when the sun's up."
Seris sat opposite me, sharpening her blade in calm deliberation. Each careful stroke of the whetstone was deliberate, rhythmic — almost meditative. "Not disappear. They withdraw," she softly corrected. "The mana which causes them to live is devoured by sunlight. It does not die, however. It only sleeps."
".That's not comforting, you know."
She smiled faintly without looking up. "It wasn't meant to be.".
I groaned and leaned my head back. "You have the worst bedside manner, you know that?"
She didn't answer this time. Just kept working on her knife, her silver hair glinting in the morning sunlight. There was something unstoppable about her — like the world could come to an end and she'd just keep going.
I admired that.
We took a break and then went back to searching. The countryside stretched out to infinity — a patchwork of old farms, half-rotten barns, and crooked windmills that didn't turn. Every house we searched was the same: turned-over furniture, no bodies, no movement. Just nothing.
I pushed aside a broken chair. "This is useless. There's nothing here, no boss, no clue, not even a weak monster in the daytime.".
Seris slumped against the window, eyes closed, trying to feel mana. "I can still feel wisps of it. but they disappear when I focus. Like the earth itself won't be read."
"Refuses to be read?"
She stood up, brushing off dirt from her armor. "Something — or someone — is hiding. Possibly the floor boss himself."
I scrunched up my brow. "You mean it's hiding?"
"Yes. In waiting. Probably until nightfall.".
The way she talked made a shiver crawl up my spine.
By late afternoon we had learned nothing new. We ate some of the canned rations from our kits — all dried meat and stale biscuits — and waited as darkness came into the sky.
The orange sun lay along the horizon like blood on water.
Seris pulled her sword back into her sheath and looked at me. "We push through at night. Taking our time will only get us cornered again."
"Push through into what?" I complained. "A sea of zombies?"
"Whatever is behind them," she concluded. "If the floor boss only appears at night, then that's when we'll have a look."
I scowled at her, half shocked, half impressed. "You're insane."
"And you're alive because of that," she shot back, eyes glinting with quiet amusement.
Touché.
The last sliver of sunlight disappeared behind the hills.
And the world began to rot again.
The first sound was the wind — it stopped. Then came the whispers, soft and distant, like thousands of voices murmuring underground.
Then the soil split open.
Hands clawed their way out.
Rotting arms. Hollow faces. The undead. Again.
Only this time. they were faster.
Their jerky but hard movements — their eyes no longer puny purple, but blazing red. Their shrieks were higher-pitched, echoing through my head.
"Seris!"
"I'm ready!"
Her sword ripped out in a wide swing — Lightning Slash!
The light bolt tore through the first row of the undead, burning them where they stood. The light was so fierce it momentarily blinded me, and I could feel the warmth of the flames on my skin.
As the light faded, I saw the destruction behind — a charred crater, charcoal bodies.
But still they came.
From the fields, from the woods, from beneath the roads — endless, crawling.
"Shit!" I cursed, kicking one away and thrusting another in the throat. It gurgled but still wriggled. I strained the blade and pushed hard to get it to go in.
"Yuta, left!"
I turned automatically — just avoiding a putrid arm that exploded out from the side. The zombie's mouth snapped at my face, crooked and rotten teeth. I shoved it away and drove my dagger into its cranium.
Seris descended next to me, sparks passing over her armor. Her breathing heavy, but I could tell by the dim blue light in her eyes — proof that she was channeling lightning again.
"They're adapting," she snarled, slicing through three more at once.
"What do you mean adapting!"
"They're resisting my magic more than before."
"That's—" I evaded another claw, talking over myself. "—that's bullshit!
She didn't reply — simply raised her sword again. Another burst of light flared, strong enough to send the shadows running for the hills.
It worked. The dead shrieked, staggered back — even a few crumbled to dust. But Seris staggered a little too, knees shaking.
"Hey, hey—" I put a hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." Her words were firm, but her complexion was ashen. "The lightning copies sunlight. It incinerates their mana off. But it drains mine quicker than normal too."
"Then don't use it so often!"
"We'll perish if I do."
She spoke without emotion, without trepidation — just reality.
I gritted my teeth and wrapped my hand tighter around my dagger.
"Then I'll take the close ones. You clear a path."
"Understood."
We fought like that for what felt like hours — charging, side-stepping, killing, retreating, and charging once more. The blackness never seemed to end. The instant we overcame one wave, others came from the darkness.
I could feel my arms growing heavy, my breaths shorter. Sweat and blood splashed into my eyes. I was clad in rags now, filthy and smeared with black ichor.
"Seris!" I yelped for air. "How much longer until sunrise!?!"
"Three hours," she answered quickly. "Maybe less."
"Three hours?! That's practically an eternity!"
She didn't respond — only hacked again, lightning splattering like droplets of sunfire.
The undead were getting strange.
Their bodies began to twist. Some grew bone plates on their backs. Others carried pieces of equipment — rusted blades, farm tools made into claws.
They were no longer zombies. They were turning into. soldiers.
Undead soldiers.
One of them — the biggest one — came straight at us, wielding a rusty halberd. Its jaw was ripped off, but its eyes burned with hot coals.
"Get down!" Seris shouted.
I bent as her lightning slash came down — boom!
The halberd broke in half, the creature dissolving. But the shockwave sent us stumbling.
Seris caught herself in mid-step. I did not. I fell flat on the ground.
"Yuta!"
"I'm okay!" I shoved myself back as another body struck where I had been. "Just— curse it— why do they never stop!!"
"Because they can't," Seris answered coldly. "They are dead, and they cannot die. The mana sustaining them recharges as long as the moonlight remains."
"So what the devil are we supposed to do?!"
Her eyes flashed towards the distance horizon — pale light was beginning to tinge the edge of the sky.
"Survive till the sun kills them again."
Those last thirty minutes seemed an eternity.
Seris's bolts developed a slow pace, every lightning bolt taking longer to energize. I'd lost count of how many I drove into flesh. As soon as I killed one, two others crept up.
The earth beneath our feet was charred, sticky with the remains of what once was human. My lungs were on fire. My eyes were a blur.
And then, at last —
The first sunbeam pierces the clouds.
The light falls on the closest undead — and like dry leaves to fire, they burn.
One by one, they fell.
Their screams echoed over the vacant fields — desperate, angry, dying.
And then silence.
Absolute, sweet silence.
I released my dagger and went to my knees. My arms still trembled wildly. My body ached all over, and my throat was raw from breathing with my teeth.
Seris stood beside me, quietly holding her own sword still gleaming with residual lightning. Her eyes had returned to their tranquil state, her face expressionless.
"That. was close," I could gasp out.
She nodded. "The lower we go, the stronger they get. These aren't corpses revived by mana. They're undead — increasing with every night."
"Increasing…" I whispered. "That's just not right."
She looked at me for a moment — a gentleness barely perceptible in her gaze. "You managed."
I tried to laugh, but it sounded like a hack. "Don't be nice. I just didn't want to die."
"Same thing."
For a moment, the curve of her mouth was up in a smile, real and small but authentic. It nearly made up for the night.
Nearly.
I looked up at the sky, sun on my face. "So… so what next? Keep searching till the next horror show?"
No, she said quietly. "We move on. The floor boss will not appear in the light of day, but its lair must be somewhere. If we can find its resting place before nightfall, we can strike first."
I groaned, standing up shakily and taking up my dagger. "You don't know how to sleep, do you?"
Her expression softened. "Sleep is for the ones who've already escaped the dungeon.".
"Right." I breathed deeply, looking out over the peaceful countryside. "So let's go get that son of a bitch before dark."
We set off walking again, and I couldn't help glancing back at the burned fields we'd abandoned behind us — the ash drifting in the gentle breeze, leftovers of beasts that'd come back to life tonight.
The dungeon was not done with us.
Not by a long shot.