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Chapter 377 - A New Face for the Dead

  I left the freed humans to enjoy their newfound health and raised another wall of darkness, separating Lili and me from them. Caged within that shadow, they wouldn’t be able to run, and hopefully, once the panic wore off, they’d start to trust me, or at least stop screaming.

  I placed Lili on top of my head to free my hands.

  “You should tie your hair up in a bundle, it’d be much more comfortable to sit here,” she said, already tugging at strands to make herself comfortable anyway.

  I shook my head in disbelief. While she made the unmistakable noises of a rodeo rider, I reached into my inventory and drew out Miranda’s body.

  The corpse looked ghastly pale, her skin almost translucent, her abdomen torn open. Dark blood had pooled between the exposed organs; even part of the liver was visible. Whoever had made that cut had done a terrible job. If it had been self-inflicted… she must have been desperate to die.

  The sight wiped away what was left of Lili’s good mood and she fell silent above me.

  “Now, do your work, little lady,” I said, lifting my hand to take her down, but she took off on her own, wings shimmering as she flew above Miranda’s body. A faint trail of sparkling dust drifted from her, settling over the corpse and casting it in an eerie glow.

  Then she landed on Miranda’s forehead and turned to look at me.

  She nodded once, and I began to channel mana alongside her. Her light grew stronger by the second, enveloping them both. Soon, she was shining so brightly I could no longer look directly at her.

  But suddenly her glow faltered. One leg slipped, and she collapsed, her light fading fast.

  Bracing herself on all fours, wings trembling on her back, she lifted her head to look at me.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It doesn’t work. It’s too late for her.”

  A moment later, she slumped forward, face-first onto Miranda’s body. “I’m done,” she mumbled. “Your turn to do your charm, my majestuous majesty.”

  I let out a long sigh. She was already snoring—drunk on white mana—lying flat across Miranda’s face. I shook my head. Is she really a part of me? Am I truly that childish and inconsiderate?

  I shrugged, picked her up between my fingers, and guided her back into the tattoo on my shoulder. Then I turned my gaze to Miranda and exhaled an uneasy snort.

  Once again, it fell to me to find a solution to this mess. I wanted to know what had killed her - who, and why. Yet now that I’d failed to save her, was it still right to use her?

  I drew in a slow breath. No. I wasn’t going to make her a ghoul, even if that would let me ask a few questions before setting her free. Making her undead felt… different. Like with Alice, I never felt as though I’d used her.

  But did I have the right to do it? Were the orcs right, that I’d be dragging her soul back, forcing it into a corpse? Or was it only a soulless vessel that would rise when I called?

  Whatever the truth was, I knew I was going to do it.

  And that certainty did unsettle me more than I wanted to admit.

  I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind, drew a deep breath, and focused on Miranda’s body. My mana poured out so densely it became visible, a dark mist curling around her.

  Remembering how I’d done it with Alice, I began to gather power again, trying to pull especially white magic, but to my surprise, the spell demanded far less this time. Perhaps because Miranda’s level had been lower?

  Now that I was thinking of how I did the spell, Alice had learned shadowmelding from me somehow, though I still wasn’t sure of the mechanism. Would it work the same for Miranda? Could a skill like that even be transferred? Probably not… but still, the thought lingered. Maybe I could teach her to hide her undead identity. That would be neat.

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  Not knowing exactly what else to do, I examined her body once more. All the wounds had already healed; her skin was smooth again, her face almost peaceful, like she’d never been hurt at all.

  Then I saw it: the same light that had appeared when I created Alice’s new existence. Instinctively, I triggered the spell. The surrounding darkness pulsed, glowing faintly as the magic took shape.

  Miranda’s chest heaved, as if she’d just been jolted by a reanimation device. Her mouth opened, and she gasped in a sharp breath of air.

  A satisfied smile spread across my lips as I examined my work. I’d wanted to make her as perfect as an undead could be, and I think I’d succeeded. Her body was flawless, perhaps even better than before.

  She seemed confused at first, lifting her head slowly and looking around. Then, propping herself up on one elbow, her eyes found me. A visible calm - almost peace - washed over her face as she whispered,

  “Mother!”

  Oh, for heaven’s sake! I nearly rolled my eyes. Another grown adult calling me Mother. At this rate, I’d start questioning my own age.

  But I held it in and smiled instead. There was a connection between us that I couldn’t deny.

  She glanced around again, pushing herself upright and resting her weight on her hands.

  “What happened, Mother?” she asked, her brows raised.

  Then her gaze dropped toward her abdomen, and her right hand instinctively searched for the wounds she still expected to find.

  I crouched down to her level and took her chin in my hand. Our eyes met.

  “How do you feel, Miranda?”

  Her hands moved over her belly, searching for cuts or scars that were no longer there.

  “Mother... I feel good. Did... did you fix me, Mother?”

  “Of course,” I said with a nod, releasing her chin as I straightened up. I tilted my head slightly. “Now, tell me—what happened? Why did you die?”

  A flicker of anger crossed her eyes.

  “They wanted me to spy on you. But I couldn’t betray you and break my promise... so I... this was the only way I could say no to them.”

  I raised a brow. That didn’t make sense. Why hadn’t she told us?

  “Why that? Why not tell me?” I asked, maybe not as soft as I should.

  Her shoulders lifted slightly as she drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them.

  “I received a small wooden box,” she said quietly, “with seven fingers inside. A finger from each member of my family. I recognized my little sister’s right away—she has a birthmark on it.”

  She paused, her voice trembling. “If I said no, they’d kill my family. If I said yes, they promised to give them healing potions to regrow the fingers... if I showed enough enthusiasm.” She let out a long, shaky sigh. “What else could I do?”

  That was a level of cruelty I hadn’t expected.

  “Who are they?” I asked, my mind already searching for the right spells to treat them.

  She shook her head. “I don’t know.” Another sigh escaped her. “I’m sorry, Mother. That was the only way I thought I could protect them.”

  “Would you recognize the person if you saw him again?”

  She hesitated, then shook her head again. “I don’t think so. It was dark, and he wore a mask.”

  Her gaze dropped to the ground. “What do I do now?” she whispered.

  I turned to the side, resting my hand on my chin as I tried to think things through.

  As with Alice, she still showed feelings, and she seemed to genuinely care for her former family. I glanced back at her.

  “I’m going to give you a new face, alright? That way, we can say Miranda truly died, which, in a sense, is true. Or would you rather let your family know what really happened?” I sighed, then shrugged. “Or maybe you have another idea?”

  She stared into the void for a few moments, then slowly nodded.

  “A new face is better…”

  I nodded back. “I’ll send word of your death to your family, along with the payment promised upon it. That should buy their freedom. I’ll also send a regrowth potion so they can heal and restore their fingers. You should have talked to me before making such a choice.”

  She bowed her head. “Yes, Mother.”

  I couldn’t help but grin. Undead are the best—they never argue.

  I focused on the spell, letting my mana gather and spread over her. I pictured what she should become—a different girl, unrecognizable but still lovely. I didn’t want to force any particular traits on her, only to reshape what was there. The spell took hold, light flickered, and her new form appeared before me.

  I exhaled slowly.

  Alright, it worked. The only problem was… I’d made her an elf.

  Why an elf?

  I blinked, then shrugged. Maybe I’d spent too much time with Ju. Apparently, I could hardly imagine any other kind of woman anymore.

  Sighing again, I reached into my inventory and pulled out a set of clothes.

  “Put these on. This is your new appearance,” I said, conjuring a mirror in the air beside her.

  She gasped when she saw her reflection, then turned toward me with wide eyes.

  “Thank you, Mother!”

  Well… at least she wasn’t upset about it.

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