The roar echoed through the stone corridors, shaking dust from the cracks in the ceiling, and Mark instinctively pressed himself against the wall, holding his breath.
His only skill was "Wake Up," and according to the mental description that appeared when he focused on it:
[Wake Up – Level 1] Type: Basic Necromancy Effect: Partially revives a corpse, though the target does not regain consciousness or free will. Cooldown: 1 hour. Limit: 1 target.
"Great. I can make zombies… brainless zombies that last an hour, and I can only have one at a time… I'm basically useless."
Another roar followed, closer this time, and Mark weighed his options:
Stay still and hope that whatever was out there moved on.
Or move and look for a way out.
Neither option sounded particularly appealing.
That was when Mark noticed it.
The smell.
It wasn't just dampness and mold — there was something else. Something his new body recognized by instinct.
Corpses.
A lot of corpses.
Carefully, Mark began moving through the corridor, hugging the shadows, while his new eyes seemed to handle the darkness better, letting him make out shapes in the gloom.
The first body appeared around a bend.
A man in shredded leather armor with a rusty sword still gripped in his hand.
The stench was strong, but not unbearable.
'An adventurer,' Mark thought, noticing the metal tag hanging from his neck.
Rank E.
Mark kept moving, finding more bodies.
Two.
Five.
Ten.
All adventurers. All violently dead.
Some frozen in expressions of terror, others looking almost peaceful, as if death had caught them completely off guard.
"What the hell happened here?"
The corridor gradually widened into a large chamber.
And there, in the center, Mark found his answer.
It was… big.
Very big.
A mass of rotting flesh and fused bones that barely fit inside the room, with multiple arms jutting out at impossible angles.
It had no defined head.
Just an opening at the top that might have been a mouth — and it was asleep.
Or at least it appeared to be.
Its wet, bubbling breathing filled the entire chamber.
"No, no, no, no!"
Mark began slowly backing away, calculating each step to avoid making a sound.
But then he saw something that made him stop.
Among the corpses scattered across the chamber, one stood out.
A woman.
Her armor, unlike the others, gleamed even in the darkness — silver, engraved with intricate designs that screamed masterwork.
Her long, snow-white hair spread around her like a halo, framing her face.
'She's beautiful,' Mark thought, immediately feeling guilty for thinking that about a corpse.
But there was something else.
Something his veteran gamer instincts recognized on the spot.
That armor was not Rank E.
Not Rank D.
Not even Rank A.
"That's legendary gear. What is someone with legendary gear doing dead in a dungeon like this?"
Curiosity overruled common sense.
With slow, careful movements, Mark approached the woman's body, keeping one eye on the sleeping monster.
Up close, he noticed more details.
Her armor was missing the breastplate section, leaving her chest exposed and unprotected, adorned instead with a bright red ornament that looked like a necklace.
Her sword gave off a faint glow that hinted at powerful enchantments.
And around her neck…
[Adventurer Tag] Name: Elyndra Ashford Rank: SSS Class: Holy Knight
Mark blinked and read it several times to make sure he hadn't misread it.
"Holy shit… Rank SSS. Triple S. How the hell does someone with Rank SSS die?"
Mark examined her body more closely, looking for a cause, but there were no visible wounds on the armor and no blood.
It was as if she had simply… stopped.
Then he saw it.
A small empty vial still clutched in her left hand.
The label was illegible, but the symbol was unmistakable.
A winged skull.
'Poison… she poisoned herself. Was it an accident? Did she mix up her vials?'
The irony was almost poetic.
The most powerful adventurer in the dungeon hadn't been taken down by the monster.
But by her own stupidity.
"Well… at least she went out in a more pathetic way than I did. That's… oddly comforting."
Mark looked at the body.
Then at the sleeping monster.
Then back at the body.
An idea began to take shape.
A terrible idea.
Morally questionable.
Probably suicidal.
But also the only one he had.
'Wake Up only works on corpses. They don't get their consciousness or free will back, but… what if the corpse belonged to someone ridiculously powerful? Would it keep her stats? Her skills?'
It was a gamble.
A massive one.
Because if it worked…
He'd have a Rank SSS fighter as his personal zombie.
And if it didn't…
Well.
He'd already died once.
How bad could dying a second time really be?
"Here goes nothing."
Mark extended his hand over Elyndra's body, focused on his only skill, and whispered:
"Wake Up."