The grass crunched as I stalked through the forest, my eyes fixated on the moving target. Hunters hunted animals in the forest, but I wasn’t any ordinary hunter. My target was humanoid in shape, had equipment and wasn’t an animal. He had old armor, chainmail from what I could tell. His helmet was rusting and his sword was the only thing that didn’t look like it came from a graveyard. From afar, one might think I was stalking a person. Well, it wasn’t far off.

I took out an amulet which had a glass through it, reminding me of those monocles some dwarves wore. I looked at my target through it, his image on the glass was blurry even though the rest of the scenery was fine. An item commonly used by the people of my order, but a rare sight outside of the order.

I crouched, preparing to lunge forward. The foliage around me made no sound, respectfully ignoring my presence. I let my hand slip onto the grip of my hunting shovel, a shovel specific for hunting my order’s foes. My leather armor also kept quiet, proving its high quality.

My muscles tensed, the ground quaked as I charged forward, the grass and branches seemingly making way for me. I raised my shovel above my head, adrenaline exciting and scaring me at the same time.

“DIE, UNDEAD!” I screamed as I swung my shovel down, expecting the undead to fall within a split of a second.

Contrary to my expectations, the undead reacted with lightning fast speed. Within one swift movement, he unsheathed his sword, turned and blocked my attack. My shovel and his sword locked, each of us attempting to overpower the other.

Sweat dropped from my forehead. What the hell was this undead?! His strength was stronger than any that I had encountered. I tried to force my legs to go forward to no avail. I was looking around, checking the surroundings for anything that could tip the balance. However…

“My, you seem like a jolly, affable fellow. Pleased to meet you.” I was caught off-guard by the sudden voice, allowing the undead to push me slightly.

“You…you talk?” I asked.

“Now, normally I would prefer meeting acquaintances who do not attempt to murder me at first sight, but one must be open-minded lest unnecessary conflict would form.” The undead nodded proudly at his own convictions.

“I agree…no, wait!” I was almost absorbed into his trickery! What sort of magic did he use on me?

“So, you do not agree that peaceful resolution is better?” The undead shook his head disapprovingly.

“No, no. Not that. I mean, how are you able to talk?! What are you?” I was able to push my shovel forward, the blades of both weapons scratching each other. I realized this was useless so I kicked him away, followed with a roll backward to make space between him and me.

“I am just a wandering traveler. Is it strange that people talk? If so, do you declare yourself strange?” The undead looked very lax, unfitting for the situation we were in at the moment.

“You are different from any of the undead that I had hunted before. What sort of undead are you?” When I said ‘undead’, he flinched for a bit there. I smirked and took out my second weapon. It looked like an incomplete black gauntlet, containing only the finger plates.

I let my knuckles tuck themselves onto my left hand, black mist-like veins forming around my arm, slowly seeping into it. The gauntlet completed itself, growing black plates to surround the back of my hand.

“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about. I see no undead. Where’s the undead?” The thing that doesn’t have convincing acting skills placed a head on his forehead and started looking for this mysterious undead.

I took this opportunity to lunge forward, my left arm pulled back to throw a punch while my shovel on my right hand was prepared to guard against any counterstrike. I was an arm’s reach from him when I attempted to threw a punch at him. In response, he bent his body backwards while thrusting his sword forward.

My shovel once again met the sword and both of the weapons clanked, each parrying one another. He took a few steps back, but I continued to throw more punches. My new weapon started to work as intended. The gauntlet sucked mana from the air as I threw the punches.

“This is….I see!” The undead jumped backwards, creating a gap between us. By now, he should’ve realized what was happening.

I clenched my fist, the gauntlet hungered for both life and death essence. My life and his death were keeping this gauntlet in check.

“That is quite dangerous. You should dispose of that vile thing.” The undead pointed at my gauntlet.

“The only vile thing is you, undead. You are an irregularity in this world. Anything not natural in this world must be destroyed,” I declared as I crouched and kicked the ground back, launching myself towards the undead.

I raised my shovel up, using my gauntlet to guard my side. I swung at him, and as expected, he dodged to the side. I grabbed his chainmail with my gauntlet and started sapping his death essence.

“Ah! Damn! Cheeky one, aren’t you? Then, I’ll have to be serious, too.” He pulled out a dagger from his back and sliced down at his chainmail, the blade effortlessly breaking through the rusted metal.

The undead broke off, revealing his dagger. The color of the blade changed beautifully, as if it was made by an artist intended only to be placed in a display. My mind ached at this new development.

“Where did you get that mithril weapon?” I asked.

“Given to me.” He shrugged.

“Given to you? Who? Tell me,” I insistently continue to ask. However, the undead refused to tell me so I decided to continue my attack instead of wasting my time here. Perhaps, before I wipe this irregularity off, I could interrogate him.

The undead went on the offense as well, trying to jab my sides. I parried his every strike away but I wasn’t fool by his tricks. Anyone knew checking the enemy’s weak sides was a basic and logical thing to do in battle.

Suddenly, his movements changed. Instead of trying to avoid my weapons, he was actively trying to hit my weapons. He swung his dagger down, and I directly blocked it with my shovel. A crack formed on my shovel’s blade.

With our weapons locked, I clenched my fist and threw it at him. Instead of dodging it, he grabbed my gauntlet. The black gauntlet thirsted, attempting to satiate itself with my life and his undeath. Pain soared throughout my arm as the undead started to crush the gauntlet.

The undead pulled his dagger away from my shovel. I had feared he was going to directly stab me but instead he had stabbed the gauntlet. A psychic scream was heard in my mind, the gauntlet cursing everything.

With his dagger lodged in my gauntlet and his only other free hand trying to crush my gauntlet, I threw my shovel down at his neck. I quickly poured mana into my hunting shovel, power coursing through the weapon.

The shovel caused a direct explosion, blowing the undead away. I dropped my shovel and crouched as the pain gave way to agony. I removed the gauntlet, my bloodied arm looked like it was seared. I spat blood and wiped my face with my free hand.

I got up and slowly walked towards the undead lying on the floor. He was trying to get up, with most of his upper portion mangled or blown off. Without his rusted chainmail and any other clothing to cover him, I could see his true self. A half-skull stared at me, but I could feel no malice from it.

“That’s quite surprising. A cosmic spell,” The undead spoke, his voice was still clear. He had given up trying to get up and was content to just lying down on the floor.

“How did you know that?” I placed my foot on the skeleton’s remaining chest.

“That…I would answer if you weren’t trying to kill me.” The skeleton chuckled, “Will you end me here now?”

“Unfortunately. There is much to learn from you. However, I cannot deviate from my Order’s creed. You are an irregularity and you must be destroyed.” I faced my palm at him, gathering mana. Although there were so much questions, I couldn’t risk the chance of letting the undead escaping.

“We shall meet, again. You should tell me all about your so-called Order next time.” The skeleton chuckled.

“There won’t be a next time, undead.” Green light was forming around my hand. Red mist flowed around my arm as the intensity of my spell started to increase.

“There would be. I’ll get my blade back. I believe it would be disrespectful to the Boss, who had given a lowly soldier like me a personalized weapon,” The skeleton replied.

Boss? I tried to stop my spell but couldn’t. A beam shot out of my palm, disintegrating the skeleton into ash. I looked at the remains of the skeleton on the burnt grass, wondering what the hell he meant by his last words.

I picked up his dagger, inspecting it while thinking hard. I turned the weapon, looking at the hilt. On it was scripture from a dead language that was taught in the order.

His Vicious, Savage Grace, Invader of Hell, Conqueror of the Abyss, Merciless at his Campaign against Time. I followed him through life, and I shall follow him through death.