Chapter 122: The Dead Listen

'Open the memory of fighting Celeste.'

The dining room disappeared.

Vincent found himself gripping an axe while a sharp pain ran through his leg. Trees surrounded him, and a short distance ahead, Anastasia was keeping Celeste from sitting down.

He had returned to his old body.

The strength he borrowed during the fight was still coursing through it, making his arms ache even before he moved.

Previously, he could only experience what had already happened. Now, he could decide what to do.

Vincent stepped forward and swung his axe.

Celeste moved aside.

He hurried to repeat the swing, but she closed the distance and struck his wrist before he could finish. The axe almost slipped from his fingers.

'Tsk.'

Anastasia forced her back, giving Vincent a moment to recover.

He knew why the repeat had failed. His shoulder was wrong, and his feet had shifted when he rushed forward.

Knowing that hadn't stopped him from doing it.

'Restart from before I moved.'

The pain in his wrist disappeared. He was standing in the same place again, with the axe securely in his hands.

This time, Vincent waited.

He watched Anastasia's sword force Celeste to the side, then stepped into the space she was moving toward.

His first swing missed.

However, his feet remained steady, and he could feel exactly where his shoulder had been.

He repeated the movement.

The axe came down with considerably greater force. Celeste raised her arm to block, and Anastasia immediately attacked her exposed side.

It wasn't enough to win the fight, but Vincent could clearly see the difference.

He repeated that short section several more times. Sometimes Celeste interrupted him. Sometimes he moved too late and lost the opening altogether.

By the time he stopped, he could reproduce the swing much more reliably.

'Exit.'

The dining room returned.

His fork was still above his plate. Nobody had moved, and the food in his mouth was still warm.

Vincent slowly finished chewing.

'Barely a second has passed in real life. This means I can keep repeating the memories as much as I want, anywhere I want. Nice.'

His body hadn't become stronger, but he understood the movement better. He would still have to practice with his current changed body, though at least he wouldn't waste time wondering where he went wrong.

He wanted to continue, but noticed a slight tiredness when he tried to concentrate again.

Apparently, spending time training inside his memories still felt like training.

Vincent finished his breakfast first.

Once the plates were being cleared, he took out the Restoration Seal and handed it to Leona beneath the table.

"Something for you to study. Please don't activate it. It can only be used once."

Leona examined the unfamiliar character before looking at him.

"What does it restore?"

"It can restore one broken item. Any item, no strength limitation."

Her fingers stopped moving.

"Any?"

Vincent nodded toward it. "We can talk about it later. I want to try something else first."

Leona carefully put the seal away and waited to see what else he wanted to do.

Across the table, Vivienne noticed Vincent close his eyes.

He had already felt the Death Dao's meaning enter him. Now, with his body healthy and his mind free to concentrate, he wanted to find it again.

The dining room was quiet enough, but he couldn't distinguish much beyond what was already within him.

"Don't force it," Vivienne said.

Vincent opened his eyes.

"You know what I'm doing?"

"You're directing the meaning outward. Come. It'll be easier somewhere else."

…

A little later, Vincent stood beside the manor's glasshouse.

Sunlight warmed the brick path. A gardener was trimming the shrubs farther away, while drops of water still clung to the leaves near the windows.

Vivienne stood beside him, and Linda waited a few steps behind.

"Close your eyes," Vivienne said. "Keep the meaning steady and pay attention to what responds."

Vincent did as instructed.

At first, there was nothing.

He could hear the gardener's shears and feel the warmth on his face. He almost opened his eyes, but eventually noticed a faint response near his feet.

Something similar to the meaning within him was present there.

He focused on it.

The response grew clearer beneath the edge of a wooden planter.

Vincent crouched and opened his eyes. A dead beetle lay beside the planter, its legs curled against its body.

"Oh."

Vivienne crouched beside him.

"You felt it?"

Vincent nodded.

"Try using what you've comprehended. Start with a little."

He extended his hand toward the beetle and guided the meaning into it.

One leg twitched.

Vincent became excited and immediately pushed more through.

The beetle jerked onto its back. Its legs shook wildly before becoming still again.

"Less," Vivienne said. "You're trying to move an insect."

"Right."

Vincent reduced the amount and tried again. He paid attention to the beetle's body instead of simply pouring everything into it.

Its legs slowly straightened.

He felt a faint connection form, something that required his attention to remain steady.

'Get up.'

The beetle struggled, caught the edge of a leaf, and turned itself over.

Vincent grinned.

'Come here.'

It crawled toward his hand.

He made it stop, turn, and move around a small stone. Its movements were awkward, but it followed each instruction.

Vincent pointed toward the gap beneath the planter.

The beetle crawled underneath and disappeared from sight. He could still feel the connection, although it told him very little about what was happening there.

"Can I see through its eyes?"

"Not with what you're doing now."

That was unfortunate. He had already imagined sending insects ahead of him to inspect dangerous places.

He called the beetle back. It emerged with a little dirt caught between its legs and stopped beside his shoe.

"This is pretty easy."

"Then try another," Vivienne said.

Linda brought over a dry leaf carrying two dead ants she had found near the glasshouse window.

Vincent worked on one, then the other.

The first beetle stopped moving while he concentrated on the ants. He hurriedly returned his attention to it and felt the connection strengthen again.

A slight pressure developed behind his eyes.

Keeping three separate bodies active was more troublesome than he expected.

He was supplying the instructions that a living creature would normally provide.

He tried making them move in different directions. One ant walked off the leaf, while the other kept turning around.

The beetle fell over.

"Stop for a moment," Vivienne said.

Vincent withdrew the meaning.

All three insects became motionless.

He rubbed his forehead and looked at them.

"They're dead again?"

"They never came back to life. You made their bodies move."

Vincent considered that, then nodded.

"So they'll stop whenever I stop doing this?"

"For now. What you created was temporary. A contract establishes a lasting connection, allowing you to keep an undead without continually rebuilding that link."

"Then I should make contracts."

"Eventually. Creating undead and maintaining them requires mental strength. A contract doesn't remove that requirement."

"But I wouldn't have to keep concentrating on it?"

"Not constantly. A simple order can continue while your attention is elsewhere. Maintaining the contract will still occupy part of your mental strength."

Vincent understood why making too many contracts would become a problem.

Vivienne picked up the leaf and placed it beneath the planter.

"The body matters too. Its condition, strength, and the meaning remaining within it affect how difficult it is to control."

Vincent glanced toward Linda, then back at his mother.

"So if someone brought me the corpse of a strong cultivator…"

"You would probably hurt yourself."

"I haven't even finished."

"You cannot have higher-realm undead without a splitting headache. You might die before you could command them in battle."

Vincent shut his mouth.

That was quite clear.

He had briefly imagined standing behind some powerful undead and letting it handle everything. Apparently, getting the corpse was only the first problem.

"Even if I only raise one?"

"Its cultivation won't become lower simply because it's your only undead, my dear."

Vincent understood.

He looked down at the beetle and carefully established the connection again.

This time, he made it walk only a short distance before stopping it. Maintaining one was comfortable enough. The pressure returned when he tried moving the ants as well.

He released them and kept the beetle.

"So I need more corpses around if I want to be strong using this."

"You need suitable bodies and the ability to control them. Having a hundred corpses beside you means little if you can only manage one."

"And without any?"

"You'll have to use something else. Raising the dead is only one application of the Death Dao."

Vincent nodded slowly.

The little beetle continued around the stone. He watched it complete the turn, then deliberately released his hold.

It became still.

He stood up and brushed the dirt from his trousers.

"Mom, about the Dark Forest."

Vivienne looked at him.

"You said there might be something in those ruins that can help the dragon. I think we should start preparing."

"There's quite a lot you should understand before entering."

"That's why I'm asking now."

Vivienne turned toward Linda.

"Bring the map of the Central Region."