Stuck as a Dungeon Mob

In Arbor Town, the king of Bosque had just finished his great speech and was ready to depart towards the capital.

Brennan was taking in the praise and respect of the adventurers and knights with a calm but secretly elated expression. He wasn't narcissistic or anything of the sort,  he just needed this happiness to overcome the trauma of the assassin.

If he were to ever run into that monster again, Brennan was frankly unsure if he would dare have the courage to fight back. There was a vast difference in skill, after all. Wouldn't it be better to just accept his death?

Fortunately, he would now be setting for the capital, where he would without a doubt be able to rest comfortably. Although the assassination attempt happened at the capital, Brennan still felt much safer there.

Previously, he had been careless. The number of knights that guarded him would have to be increased but otherwise, the capital's palace was still the most impenetrable part of Bosque.

"Your majesty…" Stuart came over to the retreating Brennan and said meekly.

"Yes?" Brennan asked, his curiosity piqued by Stuart's reluctance.

"A bastard brother of yours has taken throne" Stuart said with cold sweat trickling down his forehead.

The king's happy state of mind froze. What was the meaning of this?!?! A bastard brother?!? He doubted the existence of such an individual, but...

True or not, there was no way he would accept that!

"Who did you hear this from?!?" Brennan asked aggrieved. He hadn't died yet, why were they instituting somebody else? Plus, what happened to his children? This was wholly unfair!

"That's it! We will set off immediately!" The original intention was to set off in a couple of hours, but Brennan no longer felt safe delaying even a single second longer. They had to leave now!

'Aren't you being too impatient?' W asked Brennan.

"As if! I am being just the right amount of impatient!" Brennan shouted in a hushed tone, but he still got odd looks for his solo performance.

'What will you even do once you get there?' W asked Brennan, who was, admittedly, stumped.

"I will reclaim my throne" He said after a short deliberation. He had adventurers and a small knight force, who could say it was impossible? Plus, it wasn't like Bosque was in its best position.

'That doesn't sound very wise' W was frankly not keen on the idea. It wasn't because he didn't want the throne, but rather because Brennan's actions were too hasty. He was seriously considering switching over to another person.

'It'll be a problem by this point' W thought to himself. Brennan would definitely not accept being abandoned by him. Even if he failed to get the position of king, he would definitely report that there once was an evil monster inside him.

Moving about anywhere would become much harder, as rules would surely become more stringent.

'Ed, I will be setting off for the Bosque capital soon, Brennan seems hasty but I think I've got no choice but to follow him' W decided that if he couldn't beat him, join him. Sending a message to Ed was in his best interest in this situation.

He had yet to receive a reply from Ed, but that didn't mean he could just stop trying altogether.

"...so your thoughts are not wrong, but you could never understand me" Brennan said in conclusion. It seemed like W missed an important part of the conversation. Nevertheless, W did not mind missing it.

'Looks like you are going to be quite stubborn' W transmitted feeling defeated. The roll of the dice he made by entering Brennan this time was not good. He was outside, but his actions were limited by the possibility of being discovered.

Brennan no longer responded to W feeling that there was no more to talk about. Both of them were getting along better on the surface, but this was far from being reality.

'Here's to hoping we don't encounter any danger' W was not optimistic that this small army could face the soldiers at the city's walls.

***

Zombies!

There were zombies!

All the mages from both sides of the battlefield were stunned. How could a human being manipulate the elements of death? In their eyes… they couldn't. That meant that this assassin… they were something else…

"Samuel, can you deal with him?" The Duke asked solemnly. Even if the zombies were small fries, it was no good if they couldn't deal with the big boss.

Samuel gripped his sword tightly and looked ahead with a sharp gaze. What he saw was a deranged individual, an individual whose body was blackened from darkness and whose heart was a black hole yearning for blood.

The assassin had to have a tragic backstory. Samuel was sure of it. Was it some sort of misfortune sense? Certainly not.

Samuel was also most certainly not trying to sympathize with the man, nor was he trying to justify his actions.

What he gauged with these considerations was that he felt pity, and more often than not, one didn't feel pity for the strong.

"I can take him!" Samuel originated from a noble house, he had manners, he had education, but not once did he believe himself to be a noble. To be noble meant to have high moral principles and ideals, he didn't have that.

What he did have however was a history as an adventurer. This was a history with death and a history with the sword. If he didn't trust his own sword, he trusted no one!

"SAMUEL OAKLEY, DIE!!!" The maddened howl of the wretched assassin reached Samuel's ears. Without hesitation, Samuel sprinted off.

The area around Azrael had started to decay. This included both the grass, plants, and people.

"AAAAAH!!!" "AAARGGH!!!" "HEELP!!!" All sorts of screams littered the battlefield. Friend or foe, fear knew no distinction.

The shrieks of horror did not stop Samuel, however, he went faster.

Azrael who was at the center of the chaos was twitching oddly as power continued to course into his body. His skin was pale like a vampire and his eyes were dull like a zombie. Yet, Azrael's body seemed lively, his body was full of black veins that danced and throbbed around it.

Suddenly, something grabbed hold of Samuel's feet as he launched himself towards the epicenter of death. Shockingly, it was the grass!

The decayed plants turned undead and came to life. They acted on the behalf of Azrael thanks to their hatred for the living. Groaning and moaning then inundated Samuel.

Without hesitation, Samuel's blade cut the undead grass apart and jumped into the air. The heads of the zombies popped off their bodies and all fell like large droplets of rain onto the ground. Samuel culled the immediate threat.

The armored soldiers died a second time. It was a torture for these innocent people.

Under the influence of Azrael, the zombies kept killing and spreading death. Those felled in battle would rise again to torment the living. Samuel's killing would make no difference as long as there were people.

Kill the assassin! Samuel knew he had to kill the asssasin-!

It was then that a loud bang caused Samuel's body to be blasted back. The anemic Azrael had disappeared, and instead there was another exploding corpse that greeted Samuel.

"Damn, is it space!?" The assassin had to be quite accustomed to the element of space to manipulate it so adeptly. It was no easy element, the man was talented.

From Samuel's flank, a volley of corrosive arrows was streaking towards his figure. Samuel turned to face the attack and prepared himself a shield of wind. It was also at this moment that the sky began to darken.

From the darkness, a dagger suddenly whizzed past Samuel's figure. It missed.

"Huh?" Samuel was hit with a sudden dizziness. But- But it missed… right?

"Die! Die! Die!"  Azrael's voice started to echo around Samuel.

"Samuel!" But there was also another voice mixed into the fray. 

A sudden torrent of rain swept both Samuel and the undead beneath him. Samuel felt awake once again.

It was the Duke.

"Samuel!" The duke shouted over the pounding rain. The Duke believed that Samuel was capable of defeating his foe, but without his intervention it could very well come at a cost.

The torrential rain showered Samuel awake, but it also darkened the skies and gave the assassin the perfect opportunity to hide.

"Run!" Samuel screamed at the Duke who was quite a distance away.

Azrael moved like a phantom in the darkness of the rain and quickly approached his target.

Grass stretched out and grabbed onto the duke like vines and forcefully pinned him against the ground.

"Lansworth!" Samuel shouted, quickly hurrying over. His figure dashed forth at unprecedented speed and then…!

The battlefield was set ablaze.

Explosion after explosion resounded and engulfed the immediate battlefield. The fleeting soldiers who barely managed to escape with their lives despaired as the hot flames started to rapidly make their way towards their positions 

There was a plan, but the battlefield had turned chaotic with the inclusion of a single variable. Azrael was a very strong opponent, scarily so.

He set the fields ablaze and created dazzling fireworks out of the bodies of the fallen. He was a mortem pyrotechnic.

The dead nature was killed a second time as it burned brightly even under the barrage of thick rain. The steam that resulted from this interaction clouded the field with thick steam.

The outcome was unknown.