Published: August 25, 2025
Today, three chapters posted simultaneously.
This is chapter two of the story.
“Glen—”
“You’re late.”
“—Whoa!”
When we stepped outside after collecting the inheritance, Mr. Glen had already piled a mountain of undead in front of the grave slimes.
“These guys just keep coming no matter how many we crush. There’s no end to it. Lend me the room and the stuff to wash up, okay?”
His fists and arms were soaked in blood, his body looking like something out of a splatter movie. It was obvious he was uncomfortable. To talk calmly, I needed him to clean up first.
“Thanks, I finally feel like I can catch my breath.”
“You were covered in blood…”
“Exactly. But why are there so many undead in a place like this?”
That was probably because of that magical beast, so I explained briefly.
“There’s a magical beast that’s been living in the mansion at the center of the village for a long time. It has the ability to create undead. Dealing with that beast is one of the reasons we came to this village.”
“Oh, so it’s like a revenge battle for the villagers?”
“No, we weren’t that close. We’re just tidying up a bit while we come to collect the inheritance. Also, I want to gather some of the local plants to take back, and if possible, get the house in shape to use as our base.”
“So that means you’ll just keep punching zombies…”
Mr. Glen grimaced in obvious disgust, no doubt recalling his current state.
“That reminds me, I found something just a little while ago.”
I pulled a weapon out of the Item Box, something I found while collecting the inheritance. It was a hammer, larger than the one Mr. Glen carried, with a dull black shine… When I saw it, I felt a certain “dignity” reminiscent of the sword my father once forged.
Strictly speaking, all the weapons down in the underground carried some dignity, but this hammer was in a different league. However, I’m not really a fan of heavy weapons. Plus, after fighting undead and getting into that state again, I’d worry about hygiene just watching.
“So, I thought maybe you could use this hammer instead of your broken one.”
Even if it’s a cheap weapon, it’s better than punching undead barehanded. Since you came along anyway, I don’t mind lending it if you help fight the undead. When I showed it to him, Glen seemed to sense something. He grasped the handle planted in the ground solemnly and lifted it up.
…His movements were slightly slower than usual, but he swung the hammer lightly and forcefully, with one hand and two. He tested the motions several times, then aimed at a nearby Heat Dissipation Tree, swung it up—and—
“Hmph!!”
The trunk, like a wall, shattered, leaving a huge crater.
“Is Glen’s power that amazing, or is the Heat Dissipation Tree just that tough…? No, with that—”
The thought that it might break again popped into my head, but then disappeared. Because beyond the dimness and the dust from the impact, I saw Glen’s smile and the hammer still intact in his hands.
“It withstood that impact?”
“Hey! This is amazing! Where’d you get it?”
“I told you, from this house. It was among my grandparents’ inheritance.”
“Inheritance? What kind of grandparents keep stuff like this… This is Adamantite, right?”
“You recognize it?”
“If you’re making heavy striking weapons, Adamantite is about as good as it gets. Even I know that. My own weapon’s made from it.”
Mr. Glen pulled a broken hammer from his pouch. Upon inspection, it was made of a very similar metal, only slightly different in hue.
“The color difference is probably purity. The blacksmith told me Adamantite is super hard and tough, so it’s hard to work on in pure form. They mix iron or other metals to make it easier to forge.
My hammer was made by a craftsman exclusive to that shop, who determined the limits and used the highest purity Adamantite possible. He boasted there’s no weapon made of purer Adamantite! I don’t think they were lying… but this one here definitely looks purer, right?”