“Hmm, this seems to be an ‘Anti Sleep Ring’.
Fujiwara continued to study this ring with his eyeglass. It was brought in by a middle aged dwarf, one of his clients.
It was made of steel, and had a rustic elegance, though it was quite plain.
There were magic characters inside the ring that would have never been discovered if it had not fallen off of a sculpture in the Dungeon.
It is marked with “Thou Shalt Not Sleep”, inside.
“So, this is how he stopped sleep traps and magic, huh?”
“Yes. This is a fairly popular item. It can also be used for all-nighters, so they’re convenient. This one seems to be poor quality, though.”
“Is that so? Won’t be worth much to me, then.”
The dwarf said, apparently uninterested, kneading his lengthy beard.
The dwarf is a Seeker often called the “Grave Digger”, and not a particularly regular customer to the store, though he came by from time to time for appraisals.
His face was one you could remember easily, due to his dark, inset eyes and, and one could infer from his speaking that he was likely an insomniac.
While Appraisals were being done, Fujiwara tended to bring out rum and milk instead of coffee for him.
Fujiwara stared at the ring for a while longer.
He had noticed that, from the way this surface was made, it was done carefully with a hammer. It didn’t seem to be made via mass production and this steel was one that was particularly hard to use, but made the result last a very long time.
This was a craftsman’s hard work.
‘It may not be an ordinary ring after all’. Somehow, Fujiwara felt as if his master was telling him so, but he couldn’t quite place it.
◆
“Dead, dead, and more dead.”
The Middle-aged Dwarf ‘grave digger’ was making noise, kicking skulls about angrily with his shoes.
“…Ugh.”
He had finished off the fifth floor today.
The fifth floor of the Dungeon. It’s usually called “Public Cemetery”.
In this floor the air is musty, the floor is hard and moldy, and there are gravestones lying everywhere, piercing the ground.
-According to one theory, those who have unfortunately lost their lives in the Dungeon are quietly whisked away and buried here. Since it is so large, it’s unlikely to find your friend’s departed, even if you search hard.
The coffin underneath the headstone sometimes contains mementos like gold coins and the dearly departed’s belongings instead of bodies, and it was thus considered immoral to try to gain items from these poor Seekers.
It is worth noting that the dwarf’s “Grave Digging” is always to find out who was buried where, not to earn coin.
“…Onya?”
While returning the scattered bones into the coffin, the Dwarf heard stopped. He thought he heard someone screaming.
He rushed in the direction he heard the voice, finding a girl holding a shortsword. They were apparently guarding the other girl, standing behind them. The opponents were three skeletons and one ghoul. A situation of numerical superiority.
“Here, skeletons! You retards, look at me!”
“Grave Digger” ran in shouting, trying to gain the attention of the monster.
The first to respond was a skeleton.
It wasn’t hard to guess why the dwarf was in this floor. It was to hunt these undead monsters.
He was earnest in his fight against both the skeleton and the ghoul, and the other party watched as the skeleton began to be torn limb from limb. His axe fell upon it, first the feet were lopped off, and next ribs shattered, arms chopped, and the skull split in two. After this, the heart was quickly gouged out, spine broken, and finally the Skeleton was beheaded, in a matter of seconds. This was the “Grave Digger’s” life work.
◆
A few years prior, “Grave Digger” his comrades to this floor.
It was because of “Pandemonium”. On “Public Cemetery”, those that die instantly become monsters, adding to the enemy forces and then proceeding to help tear down their allies. In this exponential manner, the forces of the skeletons and ghouls grew.
On that day, his party had stumbled upon the remains of another party, quickly becoming overwhelmed. To make matters worse, it was on the day of the great flood of monsters, whom overwhelmed every single floor and entrapped Labyrinth City in fear and depression.
That was how he had become the “Grave Digger”
Skeletons appeared, almost like a mirage. From eight directions, vengeful ghosts, skeletons, ghouls, fire wisps, and other fearful undead surrounded his party at the same time. Within moments, they were unable to escape.
By this time, he was terrified.
He put on a good show, acting natural and pretending to be a great soldier or hero, but as a vanguard meant to be the party’s shield and sword, he fled.
By the time he looked back he realized that no one else was following him.
It took him so long to notice, due to him fully devoting himself to fleeing, that he was nearly at the surface. This was why he cleared the fifth floor, as compensation for his one big mistake.
“Do, seiiii!”
The “Grave Digger” targeted the other skeleton, repeating his artful dissemblance of its body, before finally asking,
“Girls… Are you well?”
“Yes!”
“I’m… okay.”
The reply came from the two girls battling the final skeleton. Upon ensuring they had no major injuries they were over-looking, all three of them turned and looked to the remaining enemy.
Undead monsters were particularly fickle, not hard to distract. The “Grave Digger” went for his new target. He was walking slowly, because if you carelessly approach any undead, you’d be in for trouble.
Ghouls were particularly slow, but they tended to go to try to fracture your arms. If you get grappled, there’s a risk of breaking your backbone. (Redead?)
Skeletons, however, were light and could jump long distances, moving quickly. While it had no muscle, it was like a spring loaded toy. Attacks launched from insane distances could do plenty of damage through the use of momentum.
All that remained from the skeletons was piles of mush and one whole body, lying there. This was no small number to encounter in the “Public Cemetery”, but it was insignificant compared to what he had faced on that fateful day.
◆
Every day, “Grave Digger” felt the hell within that regret, from running away at the time.
This sense of regret, even if he drowned himself in liquor, would not pass. The friends he’d drink with were gone. Even if he tried to sleep, all that he could think of was the image of his friends trapped in the middle of a horde of undead.
Some days he couldn’t even muster up the will to move. But, those he did, he returned to the “Public Cemetery”. He’d pierce undead monster after undead monster that fled from their graves. The “Pandemonium” had already been dealt with by others, but he felt some comfort fighting the undead here. He rarely even returned to the surface.
“Miss, wait here for a moment.”
“Yes!”
“I’ll do my best.”
The “Grave Digger” aimed for the teeth of the ghoul that was clambering after him. After dealing it a big blow, he aimed for the newly arrived skeleton to its left, and shook his shield at it.
“You’re next, huh?”
The “Grave Digger” pulled his hatchet out of the ghoul’s cranium, and moved to target the skeleton, when he noticed something growing from its right chest.
“……What’s this?”
It was the same pattern as the skeleton the girls dispatched of. It seems they marked it for dead all too soon. However, it had firm grasp of one of the mush skeleton’s daggers, and while the “Grave Digger” could not pull out his axe, it struck. It struck fatally, slashing him across the chest. His throat was now welling with blood, and he had a hard time breathing.
“Uoooooooa!”
The “Grave Digger” used the butt of his axe while roaring, still stuck in the Ghoul, to slam into the Skeleton’s skull, practically turning it into dust.
It reunites with the three bodies on the ground.
He didn’t really consider his life valuable.
If he died saving these two girls, then it’s worth it.
The people at the tavern seemed to think the “Grave Digger” was angry, angry enough to slaughter undead on the fifth floor every day, for revenge or memorial.
But, that’s not right. The situation is different.
The “Grave Digger”, the sleepless one that not even ale could save, was merely waiting to die in the same way of his comrades. He fought here for that purpose alone, obsessed with the undead because of it.
In truth, it was his atonement, and in confession, it was a passive, meaningless suicide.
But, he wasn’t ‘dead’ yet.
◆
“Somehow, this ring seems too powerful compared to most.”
Fujiwara sighed deeply, adding this on after his appraisal.
“Normally, ‘Anti Sleep Rings’ only deny or help you ignore exhaustion. This one, however, seems to outright take the sleepiness away.”
“I’m a total amateur to this stuff, but what’s the difference?”
The dwarf so named “Grave Digger” asked while stroking his long beard, before Fujiwara elaborated.
“If it remains on your body, it will stop your need to sleep completely, and you will never lose consciousness. Which, is probably why I felt something was off.”
“What if someone hits you over the head?”
“Yes, you will remain conscious.”
“Hmm.”
“Moreover, the exchange is ‘The pain and suffering required to live in this world’, something often beneficial to trade away.”
It is always necessary to pay a price while using a Granting Tool, generally the magic of the blood or hair of the user him or herself, but cases like this are relatively rare.
“In other words, you entirely trade away your sense of pain to equip this ring. Sickness, injury, so forth wouldn’t even make you feel a twinge.”
The exchange is a massive one, but it’d eliminate the feeling of things like hunger, sleepiness, and pain, so forth.
“It is rather convenient…”
The customer looked at the ring with interest for the first time.
“I would think, but when you can’t… feel pain or anguish, you can’t notice when your body is failing you. A person who gets tired, doesn’t know when to heal themselves, while using this ring I could get weakened and die too soon for it to pay itself off.”
“……”
Pain may be a negative feeling given in exchange, one that feels useless, but that feeling is necessary. Everything it does is in order to get in touch with your living body. If you lose it, your mind and body would be injured beyond repair before long.
As Fujiwara’s master says, “If a Granting Tool is strong, the curse is equally so.” Manufacturers with a grudge or users tampering with the items lead to the circuit being modified, cursed ones give Giving Tools strong effects, but those effects will be warped.
This ring’s excessively deviant ability, despite being called an ‘Anti Sleep Ring’, was enough to classify it as a Cursed Tool.
Fujiwara remembered with a chilly mood the stamp he had seen just before finishing his appraisal, a clown’s face. He had a hunch he knew who placed it, before it dawned on him.
The manufacturer of the ring was “The Mad Clown”, John de Godard. (tl: Jon dou Godaru)
A person eager to use his immense talent only to make his recipients unfortunate.
The things he created were often amazing yet never beneficial, fit to only be called ‘pranks’.
While the benefits would drive the user mad, the losses would get them killed or make them a laughingstock.
There really wasn’t a single person happy to find his work, barring some specific collectors.
“If I may impose, I suggest selling or trashing it, and as soon as possible.”
“I see. I’ll follow your warning.”
He took the ring from the counter, and the baggy-eyed dwarf patiently nodded.
◆
“Uncle Dwarf!”
The skeleton’s bodies were already sinking under the ground, and the two girls ran up. They seemed safe enough.
“Are you okay?”
“Are you two misses alright?”
“We have no major issues.”
“The cut… Does it hurt?”
Behind the short sword girl, a girl that was clearly a magician with freckles asked, clearly afraid. It seemed that she had seen where the dagger struck him.
“Uuuh… Yeah…”
In the heat of battle, “Grave Digger” had completely forgotten his injury. He looked his body over once more, but the injury on his chest wasn’t as bad as he thought. The stretched and bent, and once his exercise was done, he didn’t seem to have any major issues.
“There’s probably no huge issue.”
“That’s good. It’s because I… saw it struck rather deep…”
“Take this. It’s good, please drink it.”
“Shit. You’re questioning the toughness of a dwarf in merely this circumstance. A lick of a wound like this doesn’t need anything to heal.”
The girls were clearly relieved, and a bit embarrassed.
“Are you two the daughters of seekers?”
“Yes. Though, I think we stretched ourselves out a bit too far…”
“More training… is needed…”
“That’d probably be good. You can try again, but be more careful.”
They invited him to join him, but he declined, saying he had business to attend to.
◆
After seeing the girls off, he returned to wandering the “Public Cemetery”.
He wondered when he’d next go to the surface and drink liquor.
Finally, after so long, the distant days past were far enough from his mind that he could have a meal in peace.
“…”
“Grave Digger” placed his hand on his chest.
He was trying to make sure it was still beating, unable to feel anything. The skin under his garments was covered in blood, muddy, and cold. Like clay, it had no tension.
However, his breathing was steady, and no matter how much time passed,
“…Hm.”
He looked down, confirming the dull colors of his skin.
The ring was far more powerful than the shopkeeper thought.
Due to trading away the “Suffering and pain required to live in this world”, he barely felt pain, fatigue, or even hungry. No matter how much blood he lost, or even if he stopped breathing, his heart kept beating. He stayed conscious.
He was aware of the fact that he had truly died long, long ago.
But, his flesh would no longer sleep, and even his soul remained steady, to his surprise. Imperceptibly, the undead hunter had become an undead, one that drank in the tavern and walked about in town.
“What should I do now…”
“Grave Digger” muttered to himself quietly.
He didn’t need to continue to fight here anymore, truly.
However, he hesitated to go back to the surface.
If they discovered he was undead, he’d either receive a forced purification from the guys at the temple as an ‘evil being’, or he’d be used as a test subject from those guys at the academy.
He thought this while walking, before seeing a familiar sight.
It was the staircase to the sixth floor, he had seen many times.
“…Haaa,”
What would be the point, when he had died in the fifth.
When he made encampment here, he had company, and he was so excited making plans to reach the tenth that he forgot food, liquor, map, and sleep, so bad they had to go back to town and try again.
“Sure. I’m interested, I’ll go.”, he thought he heard a familiar voice, one from his group.
“I’m in. Make room.”
“Surely something interesting waits.”
“Wait, why aren’t you all hesitating?” another of his party asked incredulously.
“…Oh, that, because it’ll be fun.”
His heart was now decided, even if these were auditory hallucinations, surely they meant something.
The “Grave Digger” walked toward the staircase cheerfully.
‘I don’t die anymore, ha,’
No matter if he would be in his own personal hell as he reached this ‘heaven’ at the end of the dungeon, he might as well go and sightsee a bit.
◆
Discrimination Certificate “Anti-Sleep Ring” (Cursed!)
“The world offers to deprive from you slumber eternally, thou melancholic and the pained, and in exchange it shall take your pain and suffering required to live in this world like a sea’s ripples fading into the night.”
“Anti-Sleep Rings” are extremely simple to use and beneficial.
Goblin Shamans and sleeping gas can’t put you to sleep, since the ring prevents it. In the Dungeon, even a moment of sleep or exhaustion can be fatal, so this tool gives you some room to maneuver.
Unfortunately, this ring is better to avoid. To describe it simply, this magic circuit is cursed to the extent where the malice is evident- “Pain and suffering required to live in this world” as compensation will give you nothing but hardships.
If you use this only once, sleep is not necessary, hunger is not any risk, and pain is negligible. You could work vigorously, unfeeling. However, the result is that you would look like the living dead, walking aimlessly in your dreamlike state of non-danger. You may or may not even notice you actually dying.
At the risk of this falling into the wrong hands, it is highly suggested you dedicate it to the temple or hide it very deep in the Dungeon.
“Hmm, this seems to be an ‘Anti Sleep Ring’.
Fujiwara continued to study this ring with his eyeglass. It was brought in by a middle aged dwarf, one of his clients.
It was made of steel, and had a rustic elegance, though it was quite plain.
There were magic characters inside the ring that would have never been discovered if it had not fallen off of a sculpture in the Dungeon.
It is marked with “Thou Shalt Not Sleep”, inside.
“So, this is how he stopped sleep traps and magic, huh?”
“Yes. This is a fairly popular item. It can also be used for all-nighters, so they’re convenient. This one seems to be poor quality, though.”
“Is that so? Won’t be worth much to me, then.”
The dwarf said, apparently uninterested, kneading his lengthy beard.
The dwarf is a Seeker often called the “Grave Digger”, and not a particularly regular customer to the store, though he came by from time to time for appraisals.
His face was one you could remember easily, due to his dark, inset eyes and, and one could infer from his speaking that he was likely an insomniac.
While Appraisals were being done, Fujiwara tended to bring out rum and milk instead of coffee for him.
Fujiwara stared at the ring for a while longer.
He had noticed that, from the way this surface was made, it was done carefully with a hammer. It didn’t seem to be made via mass production and this steel was one that was particularly hard to use, but made the result last a very long time.
This was a craftsman’s hard work.
‘It may not be an ordinary ring after all’. Somehow, Fujiwara felt as if his master was telling him so, but he couldn’t quite place it.
◆
“Dead, dead, and more dead.”
The Middle-aged Dwarf ‘grave digger’ was making noise, kicking skulls about angrily with his shoes.
“…Ugh.”
He had finished off the fifth floor today.
The fifth floor of the Dungeon. It’s usually called “Public Cemetery”.
In this floor the air is musty, the floor is hard and moldy, and there are gravestones lying everywhere, piercing the ground.
-According to one theory, those who have unfortunately lost their lives in the Dungeon are quietly whisked away and buried here. Since it is so large, it’s unlikely to find your friend’s departed, even if you search hard.
The coffin underneath the headstone sometimes contains mementos like gold coins and the dearly departed’s belongings instead of bodies, and it was thus considered immoral to try to gain items from these poor Seekers.
It is worth noting that the dwarf’s “Grave Digging” is always to find out who was buried where, not to earn coin.
“…Onya?”
While returning the scattered bones into the coffin, the Dwarf heard stopped. He thought he heard someone screaming.
He rushed in the direction he heard the voice, finding a girl holding a shortsword. They were apparently guarding the other girl, standing behind them. The opponents were three skeletons and one ghoul. A situation of numerical superiority.
“Here, skeletons! You retards, look at me!”
“Grave Digger” ran in shouting, trying to gain the attention of the monster.
The first to respond was a skeleton.
It wasn’t hard to guess why the dwarf was in this floor. It was to hunt these undead monsters.
He was earnest in his fight against both the skeleton and the ghoul, and the other party watched as the skeleton began to be torn limb from limb. His axe fell upon it, first the feet were lopped off, and next ribs shattered, arms chopped, and the skull split in two. After this, the heart was quickly gouged out, spine broken, and finally the Skeleton was beheaded, in a matter of seconds. This was the “Grave Digger’s” life work.
◆
A few years prior, “Grave Digger” his comrades to this floor.
It was because of “Pandemonium”. On “Public Cemetery”, those that die instantly become monsters, adding to the enemy forces and then proceeding to help tear down their allies. In this exponential manner, the forces of the skeletons and ghouls grew.
On that day, his party had stumbled upon the remains of another party, quickly becoming overwhelmed. To make matters worse, it was on the day of the great flood of monsters, whom overwhelmed every single floor and entrapped Labyrinth City in fear and depression.
That was how he had become the “Grave Digger”
Skeletons appeared, almost like a mirage. From eight directions, vengeful ghosts, skeletons, ghouls, fire wisps, and other fearful undead surrounded his party at the same time. Within moments, they were unable to escape.
By this time, he was terrified.
He put on a good show, acting natural and pretending to be a great soldier or hero, but as a vanguard meant to be the party’s shield and sword, he fled.
By the time he looked back he realized that no one else was following him.
It took him so long to notice, due to him fully devoting himself to fleeing, that he was nearly at the surface. This was why he cleared the fifth floor, as compensation for his one big mistake.
“Do, seiiii!”
The “Grave Digger” targeted the other skeleton, repeating his artful dissemblance of its body, before finally asking,
“Girls… Are you well?”
“Yes!”
“I’m… okay.”
The reply came from the two girls battling the final skeleton. Upon ensuring they had no major injuries they were over-looking, all three of them turned and looked to the remaining enemy.
Undead monsters were particularly fickle, not hard to distract. The “Grave Digger” went for his new target. He was walking slowly, because if you carelessly approach any undead, you’d be in for trouble.
Ghouls were particularly slow, but they tended to go to try to fracture your arms. If you get grappled, there’s a risk of breaking your backbone. (Redead?)
Skeletons, however, were light and could jump long distances, moving quickly. While it had no muscle, it was like a spring loaded toy. Attacks launched from insane distances could do plenty of damage through the use of momentum.
All that remained from the skeletons was piles of mush and one whole body, lying there. This was no small number to encounter in the “Public Cemetery”, but it was insignificant compared to what he had faced on that fateful day.
◆
Every day, “Grave Digger” felt the hell within that regret, from running away at the time.
This sense of regret, even if he drowned himself in liquor, would not pass. The friends he’d drink with were gone. Even if he tried to sleep, all that he could think of was the image of his friends trapped in the middle of a horde of undead.
Some days he couldn’t even muster up the will to move. But, those he did, he returned to the “Public Cemetery”. He’d pierce undead monster after undead monster that fled from their graves. The “Pandemonium” had already been dealt with by others, but he felt some comfort fighting the undead here. He rarely even returned to the surface.
“Miss, wait here for a moment.”
“Yes!”
“I’ll do my best.”
The “Grave Digger” aimed for the teeth of the ghoul that was clambering after him. After dealing it a big blow, he aimed for the newly arrived skeleton to its left, and shook his shield at it.
“You’re next, huh?”
The “Grave Digger” pulled his hatchet out of the ghoul’s cranium, and moved to target the skeleton, when he noticed something growing from its right chest.
“……What’s this?”
It was the same pattern as the skeleton the girls dispatched of. It seems they marked it for dead all too soon. However, it had firm grasp of one of the mush skeleton’s daggers, and while the “Grave Digger” could not pull out his axe, it struck. It struck fatally, slashing him across the chest. His throat was now welling with blood, and he had a hard time breathing.
“Uoooooooa!”
The “Grave Digger” used the butt of his axe while roaring, still stuck in the Ghoul, to slam into the Skeleton’s skull, practically turning it into dust.
It reunites with the three bodies on the ground.
He didn’t really consider his life valuable.
If he died saving these two girls, then it’s worth it.
The people at the tavern seemed to think the “Grave Digger” was angry, angry enough to slaughter undead on the fifth floor every day, for revenge or memorial.
But, that’s not right. The situation is different.
The “Grave Digger”, the sleepless one that not even ale could save, was merely waiting to die in the same way of his comrades. He fought here for that purpose alone, obsessed with the undead because of it.
In truth, it was his atonement, and in confession, it was a passive, meaningless suicide.
But, he wasn’t ‘dead’ yet.
◆
“Somehow, this ring seems too powerful compared to most.”
Fujiwara sighed deeply, adding this on after his appraisal.
“Normally, ‘Anti Sleep Rings’ only deny or help you ignore exhaustion. This one, however, seems to outright take the sleepiness away.”
“I’m a total amateur to this stuff, but what’s the difference?”
The dwarf so named “Grave Digger” asked while stroking his long beard, before Fujiwara elaborated.
“If it remains on your body, it will stop your need to sleep completely, and you will never lose consciousness. Which, is probably why I felt something was off.”
“What if someone hits you over the head?”
“Yes, you will remain conscious.”
“Hmm.”
“Moreover, the exchange is ‘The pain and suffering required to live in this world’, something often beneficial to trade away.”
It is always necessary to pay a price while using a Granting Tool, generally the magic of the blood or hair of the user him or herself, but cases like this are relatively rare.
“In other words, you entirely trade away your sense of pain to equip this ring. Sickness, injury, so forth wouldn’t even make you feel a twinge.”
The exchange is a massive one, but it’d eliminate the feeling of things like hunger, sleepiness, and pain, so forth.
“It is rather convenient…”
The customer looked at the ring with interest for the first time.
“I would think, but when you can’t… feel pain or anguish, you can’t notice when your body is failing you. A person who gets tired, doesn’t know when to heal themselves, while using this ring I could get weakened and die too soon for it to pay itself off.”
“……”
Pain may be a negative feeling given in exchange, one that feels useless, but that feeling is necessary. Everything it does is in order to get in touch with your living body. If you lose it, your mind and body would be injured beyond repair before long.
As Fujiwara’s master says, “If a Granting Tool is strong, the curse is equally so.” Manufacturers with a grudge or users tampering with the items lead to the circuit being modified, cursed ones give Giving Tools strong effects, but those effects will be warped.
This ring’s excessively deviant ability, despite being called an ‘Anti Sleep Ring’, was enough to classify it as a Cursed Tool.
Fujiwara remembered with a chilly mood the stamp he had seen just before finishing his appraisal, a clown’s face. He had a hunch he knew who placed it, before it dawned on him.
The manufacturer of the ring was “The Mad Clown”, John de Godard. (tl: Jon dou Godaru)
A person eager to use his immense talent only to make his recipients unfortunate.
The things he created were often amazing yet never beneficial, fit to only be called ‘pranks’.
While the benefits would drive the user mad, the losses would get them killed or make them a laughingstock.
There really wasn’t a single person happy to find his work, barring some specific collectors.
“If I may impose, I suggest selling or trashing it, and as soon as possible.”
“I see. I’ll follow your warning.”
He took the ring from the counter, and the baggy-eyed dwarf patiently nodded.
◆
“Uncle Dwarf!”
The skeleton’s bodies were already sinking under the ground, and the two girls ran up. They seemed safe enough.
“Are you okay?”
“Are you two misses alright?”
“We have no major issues.”
“The cut… Does it hurt?”
Behind the short sword girl, a girl that was clearly a magician with freckles asked, clearly afraid. It seemed that she had seen where the dagger struck him.
“Uuuh… Yeah…”
In the heat of battle, “Grave Digger” had completely forgotten his injury. He looked his body over once more, but the injury on his chest wasn’t as bad as he thought. The stretched and bent, and once his exercise was done, he didn’t seem to have any major issues.
“There’s probably no huge issue.”
“That’s good. It’s because I… saw it struck rather deep…”
“Take this. It’s good, please drink it.”
“Shit. You’re questioning the toughness of a dwarf in merely this circumstance. A lick of a wound like this doesn’t need anything to heal.”
The girls were clearly relieved, and a bit embarrassed.
“Are you two the daughters of seekers?”
“Yes. Though, I think we stretched ourselves out a bit too far…”
“More training… is needed…”
“That’d probably be good. You can try again, but be more careful.”
They invited him to join him, but he declined, saying he had business to attend to.
◆
After seeing the girls off, he returned to wandering the “Public Cemetery”.
He wondered when he’d next go to the surface and drink liquor.
Finally, after so long, the distant days past were far enough from his mind that he could have a meal in peace.
“…”
“Grave Digger” placed his hand on his chest.
He was trying to make sure it was still beating, unable to feel anything. The skin under his garments was covered in blood, muddy, and cold. Like clay, it had no tension.
However, his breathing was steady, and no matter how much time passed,
“…Hm.”
He looked down, confirming the dull colors of his skin.
The ring was far more powerful than the shopkeeper thought.
Due to trading away the “Suffering and pain required to live in this world”, he barely felt pain, fatigue, or even hungry. No matter how much blood he lost, or even if he stopped breathing, his heart kept beating. He stayed conscious.
He was aware of the fact that he had truly died long, long ago.
But, his flesh would no longer sleep, and even his soul remained steady, to his surprise. Imperceptibly, the undead hunter had become an undead, one that drank in the tavern and walked about in town.
“What should I do now…”
“Grave Digger” muttered to himself quietly.
He didn’t need to continue to fight here anymore, truly.
However, he hesitated to go back to the surface.
If they discovered he was undead, he’d either receive a forced purification from the guys at the temple as an ‘evil being’, or he’d be used as a test subject from those guys at the academy.
He thought this while walking, before seeing a familiar sight.
It was the staircase to the sixth floor, he had seen many times.
“…Haaa,”
What would be the point, when he had died in the fifth.
When he made encampment here, he had company, and he was so excited making plans to reach the tenth that he forgot food, liquor, map, and sleep, so bad they had to go back to town and try again.
“Sure. I’m interested, I’ll go.”, he thought he heard a familiar voice, one from his group.
“I’m in. Make room.”
“Surely something interesting waits.”
“Wait, why aren’t you all hesitating?” another of his party asked incredulously.
“…Oh, that, because it’ll be fun.”
His heart was now decided, even if these were auditory hallucinations, surely they meant something.
The “Grave Digger” walked toward the staircase cheerfully.
‘I don’t die anymore, ha,’
No matter if he would be in his own personal hell as he reached this ‘heaven’ at the end of the dungeon, he might as well go and sightsee a bit.
◆
Discrimination Certificate “Anti-Sleep Ring” (Cursed!)
“The world offers to deprive from you slumber eternally, thou melancholic and the pained, and in exchange it shall take your pain and suffering required to live in this world like a sea’s ripples fading into the night.”
“Anti-Sleep Rings” are extremely simple to use and beneficial.
Goblin Shamans and sleeping gas can’t put you to sleep, since the ring prevents it. In the Dungeon, even a moment of sleep or exhaustion can be fatal, so this tool gives you some room to maneuver.
Unfortunately, this ring is better to avoid. To describe it simply, this magic circuit is cursed to the extent where the malice is evident- “Pain and suffering required to live in this world” as compensation will give you nothing but hardships.
If you use this only once, sleep is not necessary, hunger is not any risk, and pain is negligible. You could work vigorously, unfeeling. However, the result is that you would look like the living dead, walking aimlessly in your dreamlike state of non-danger. You may or may not even notice you actually dying.
At the risk of this falling into the wrong hands, it is highly suggested you dedicate it to the temple or hide it very deep in the Dungeon.
