Netherborne [An OP Monster Isekai]-Chapter 8. An Undead Banquet

Despite the nippy weather, a thin sheen of sweat covered Alice’s brow as she approached the final ice sculpture. Her entire body was racked with exhaustion, but she soldiered on as this was a task given by the overlord. Just one more! she mentally cheered herself on as no one else would. She dragged herself before that massive piece of cursed art one foot after another. Sometimes the ice obscured or warped the features; other times, there was so much blood Alice debated if there was even a creature inside.

“Hmmm…” Alice impatiently tapped her foot as she examined every inch of the creature; it seemed familiar. As the daughter of a prominent merchant, she had seen her fair share of monster parts for sale. “I recognize those pincers—”

“The ice obstructs the—”

“AH!” Despite her tight-fitting dress, Alice spun around toward the voice and stumbled back. “YOU!” One of the merchants that had abused the shit out of her stood dumbly, pointing at himself.

“Me?” The merchant pointed a meaty thumb at its dumb face.

“Yes, you! How are you alive!” Alice was shocked; she saw them dead, she was sure of it, or had it all been one terrible nightmare?

“Alive?” The merchant looked down at the gaping hole in his chest; ribs covered in rotting innards could be seen, and a foul stench wafted through the air. To further prove its point, the zombie twisted its right arm at an impossible angle, causing the filthy shirt it was wearing to tear. Finally, the arm snaked around its back, through the hole, and the zombie shook hands with itself through its chest cavity. “Neat party trick, eh?” The gruff man that had shoveled gruel that tasted like wallpaper down her throat gave her a grin that brought her anger to new heights.

“YOU BASTARD.” Alice pointed a wavering accusing finger at the zombie, “How…just AH! Fuck you. I hate you!” She didn’t care about offending the overlord at this moment; she used the little remaining strength she had and did the most brutal kick she could at the grinning merchant’s balls. The world seemed to slow down as Alice’s shin made contact; there was a brief resistance, followed by the sensation of a popping balloon.

The zombie and Alice stared in horror as the merchant’s trousers darkened and some mysterious liquid trickled down his leg. Then there was a mutual silence that stretched between the two for a long while—neither claiming to have enough social capabilities to understand where to take the conversation from here as this was uncharted territory in the history of humanity.

After a long while of cemetery silence, Alice couldn’t handle the merchant’s pained face a moment longer. “That… I am so…sorr—”

The zombie raised his hand to silence the blabbering girl. “I deserved that. I truly did. The name’s Terry, by the way.” The zombie offered his calloused hand, and Alice stared at it. Before she knew it, her hand was in his grasp, it felt like a soggy potato, and they shook for a while. “Sad to see the old things go, but alas, I have little use for them in my current state.” He sighed, but due to his lungs being…well…destroyed, it sounded like a bagpipe gone wrong. Also, his innards waved around in the wind, making her feel sick.

“So, as I was saying,” Terry began while Alice stared at the ground, trying to keep the vomit from rising, “the ice obscures this insect’s wings, which, from the size of the pincers, I bet has a slight green tint. I would assume this is a giant flying green mantis if that is true.”

Alice grumbled at Terry’s suggestion. It sounded correct, but there was no way to be sure as, unfortunately, something had sliced the poor creature into ten pieces, and its wings were too thin to appear clearly through the ice.

“The lord has quite the impressive collection, at least a million gold worth of monsters here,” Terry mused while he helped the goblin hammer in the final signpost. “Some of these would be worth thousands by themselves for the meat alone due to the magical freezing keeping the meat somewhat fresh. But I wonder if the lord ever plans to sell them. It would be a shame not to.”

“Have you met the lord?” Alice carefully questioned; she kept a wary eye on her status, and her UNKNOWN party member was still far out of range.

Terry nervously chuckled and chose to remain quiet. Well, that is concerning. Alice wandered a little further from Terry; the stench was nauseating, and she wanted to keep her meal down at any cost. Speaking of meals, she was starving. “Is there any more food for me?”

Terry nodded and gestured for her to follow. “Of course, my adorable hostage— Ahem, I mean mistress. Us undead have no use for food, so take it all.” Alice did not like any of those word choices. So I am the only living person here? Does the lord not need to eat? Also hostage? MISTRESS? While lost in thought, she accidentally bumped into the zombie’s back, and some green gunk stained her dress and smelled downright rancid.

“Sorry about that.” Terry chuckled and continued walking toward a small group of carriages.

“Easy for you to say…” Alice mumbled as she tried to flick the sludge off while joining in a step behind Terry. He stood a head taller than her, but she could see through the opening in his chest. I formally declare my undying hatred for zombies. Skeleton undead are so much better. She swore in her heart that she would never, ever raise a zombie even if her life depended on it. They reeked, looked weird as hell, and she did not appreciate their sense of humor at all.

Or maybe it was just Terry who was the exception. Actually, where are the other zombies? There should be more, right? Unless the lord did something with them. A shudder ran down her spine; perhaps Terry was the lucky one.

“Here we are, the kitchen! Built just for you, honeypie.” Terry proudly spread his arms and puffed out his chest to little effect. “In here, you can find Bob.”

“Honeypie?” Alice grumbled as Terry ignored her and made his way inside.

Inside the dingy carriage walls was another merchant. “Hello, my name is Bob.” His voice was as dull as his appearance—completely bone white from head to toe.

“Bob, I already love you,” Alice professed as she saw a table with a freshly brewed stew. She tried to hide her absolute terror and kept her eyes away from Bob. How did he end up like that? He was meat and blood just like Terry only last night!

“Nobody loves me.” The short skeleton sat down in the corner, soulless eyes on the floor. “Burned me alive they did.”

Terry took this awkward silence as his chance to leave. “After you have finished with that scrumptious meal, feel free to join me outside. It’s about time we delve into the forest and level you up.”

That statement caused Alice’s jaw to slack at the grinning zombie. “You and me?” She gestured between them. “Go into the forest? Just the two of us?”

Terry shrugged like it was no big deal. “Sure, why not?”

“IT’S THE CURSED FOREST! HELLOOOOO, WE WILL DIE OUT THERE. DID YOU NOT SEE THE MONSTERS INSIDE THE ICE? THOSE ARE ROAMING FREELY OUT THERE!” Alice whirled around on her heel to Bob. “Yo, chef, back me up on this one!”

“Why?” Bob sunk even lower in his chair. “Why should I? Nothing matters. I feel nothing; the magnificent beard I grew for ten long years will never return… Burned it away they did…”

Although Bob was one sexy bag of bones and a wicked chef, Alice was starting to prefer Terry’s more upbeat personality that didn’t remind her of watching paint dry.

“It’s the lord’s orders,” Terry added before rounding the corner and leaving Alice alone with Bob and an irresistible stew of unknown meat.

“Fine.” Alice sat next to Bob and dug in. “Get eaten by a Four-Leaf Golden Bear for all I care!” she slurred through a half-full mouth of warm stew.

“I’m already dead, remember!” Terry hollered back.