"Welcome to Orilon, Lord Merchant," Anna said, bowing deeply. "Please, allow me to lead the way. My father will be pleased to have your acquaintance. He will want to thank you personally... and perhaps discuss those spices you mentioned."
Montu's rotting lips curled into a smile hidden by his hood.
"Lead the way, Anna," he said. "I have exactly what your village needs. And in return, I'll take exactly what I want."
The cobblestones of Orilon clicked beneath Montu's bare feet, a rhythmic sound that felt strangely nostalgic. In his previous life, this village had been a place of hope—the "Noob Zone" where he had first learned to swing a sword. Now, the atmosphere felt different. Through his undead senses, the air was thick with the scent of baked bread, manure, and the warm, thrumming pulse of thousands of living hearts.
To the villagers, it was a beautiful evening. To Montu, it was a buffet.
The streets were bustling. Vendors shouted their prices, children chased stray dogs, and the daily commerce of a frontier village hummed with energy. But as Montu passed, the humming stopped. A silence spread like a cold front, following him as he walked.
"Look at his skin," a merchant whispered, pulling his young son behind a vegetable stall. "Is that... a monster? In a merchant's cowl?"
"And look who's behind him," a woman gasped, dropping her basket of wool. "The Chief's daughter! And the Elite Guard! They look like they're walking to their own execution."
Montu didn't turn his head. His [God's Eye] flickered over the crowd, seeing levels 1, 3, and 5. These people were sheep, and he was a wolf in an expensive hoodie. He knew exactly where he was going. The Village Chief's office was a two-story timber building at the center of the village, a landmark he had visited a hundred times in his past life to turn in completed quests.
These streets will be a sea of players in a month, he thought. 'I need to own this town before they even log in.'
Anna, the Chief's daughter, was practically vibrating with nervous energy. She took a trembling step forward, her green gown rustling. "Sir... Lord Merchant," she began, her voice cracking. "You must be exhausted after such a... long journey. Orilon is humble, but we have the finest inn. Why don't you rest for the night? I can have a suite prepared—the softest down pillows, the quietest room—and you can speak with my father in the morning when the sun is bright."
Montu stopped. He didn't turn around, but the air around him seemed to drop a few degrees. He knew what she was doing. She wanted to run to her father, scream about the "High-Level Lich" at the gates, and prepare a defense—or a massive bribe, and warn him of the dangers if the monster was offended.
[SHE THINKS YOU'RE AN APOCALYPSE IN A CAPE,] the System snickered in his mind. [ARE YOU GOING TO TELL HER YOU NEARLY DIED TO A LEVEL 3 VEGETABLE?]
Quiet, Montu snapped mentally. He turned his head just enough for Anna to see the faint, red glint in his eyes.
"I do not rest," Montu rasped, his voice cold and dry. "Time is a currency I do not waste. I am here for business, not for down pillows. However..." He paused, feeling a phantom gnawing in his gut. It wasn't hunger—zombies didn't need to eat—but a primal urge. "I find I am... empty. Some food would be sufficient while you prepare your father for my arrival."
Anna let out a breath so loud it was almost a sob. "Of course! Utmost haste! I will guide you to the 'Excited Toad.' It is our finest tavern. The guards will stay with you to ensure... that no one bothers your meal."
"The Excited Toad?" Montu muttered as they walked. "What kind of name is that? Did the owner have a stroke while naming it?"
[THE AUTHOR FOR SURE HAS SOME UNIQUE TASTE,] the System remarked. [OR PERHAPS THE TOAD WAS INDEED VERY EXCITED TO BE EDIBLE.]
The tavern was a raucous place, filled with the smell of roasted meats and cheap ale. But the moment Montu stepped through the door, the laughter died. The bard stopped playing his lute mid-chord.
Anna ignored the stunned patrons. she hurried to the owner, a stout man with a stained apron, and whispered frantically. Her hands gestured wildly toward Montu, then toward her own neck, miming a decapitation. The owner's face went from annoyed to ghostly white in three seconds.
"The best table!" the owner stammered. "The corner! Away from the... er... common folk!"
Montu sat. The chair creaked under him. Anna leaned in, bowing so low her forehead almost touched the sticky table. "What would my Lord like to eat? We have mountain goat, forest deer, or..."
"The most expensive dish you have," Montu interrupted. "And make it quick. I have gods to spite."
"Anything to drink?" she asked.
"No."
Anna hurried away, to the chef, than towards her father's office, leaving the four guards to stand like statues at the tavern entrance. They looked less like bodyguards and more like men waiting for a bomb to go off.
Half an hour later, the tavern owner himself brought out three large, steaming plates. He set them down with trembling hands. "Freshly hunted this morning, My Lord. Prime Green-Skin Goblin flank, braised in its own marrow with wild tubers."
Montu stared at the meat. In Destiny Eternal, goblin meat was a staple for low-level NPCs and poor villagers. It was chewy, slightly bitter, but edible. Most players avoided it, preferring the stat-boosting meals made from rarer beasts.
He picked up a heavy iron spoon and took a bite.
The moment the meat touched his tongue, something strange happened. He didn't taste the bitterness. Instead, his zombie biology reacted. The meat didn't just sit in his mouth; it felt like his saliva was a solvent, breaking the protein down into a liquid essence that slid down his throat like molten gold. It felt... empowering.
Ding!
[NOTIFICATION: The Host has received 0.3 Evolution Points.]
Montu nearly dropped his spoon. Evolution Points? He had seen the category in his profile—the golden key to changing his race from a lowly Zombie to something greater—but it had always been a stagnant zero. Even leveling up hadn't touched it.
"Either this happened because I ate food for the first time after I came here or this has something to do with the goblin's meat." Montu thought to himself.
"System," he whispered. "The meat? Why?"
[YOU ARE AN UNDEAD OF THE DESTRUCTION PATH, MONTU. YOU DON'T GROW BY EATING SALAD. YOU GROW BY CONSUMING THE VITALITY OF OTHER MONSTERS. GOBLIN MEAT IS TRASH, BUT FOR A LEVEL 2 ZOMBIE, IT'S NUTRITION.]
Montu didn't need another word. He fell upon the plates like a starving beast. He shoveled the braised flank into his maw, the "liquified" meat fueling a cold fire in his veins. By the time he scraped the third plate clean, he felt a sense of solidity he hadn't had since he woke up in the forest.
Ding!
[NOTIFICATION: The Host has received 0.1 Evolution Points.]
"It's the meat," Montu confirmed, his eyes darting around the tavern. If he could get Evolution Points just by eating, he could bypass weeks of grinding. He could become a Ghoul, a Wight, or even a Vampire if he ate the right things.
He called the waiter back. "Another plate. Now."
The waiter, terrified by the speed of the "Monster's" consumption, brought another helping. Montu finished it in seconds.
[NOTIFICATION: The Host has received 0.1 Evolution Points.]
Current Evolution Points: 0.5
He stood up, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. He felt stronger, more "connected" to his dead flesh. He reached into his inventory and tossed two gold coins onto the counter as a tip. The owner stared at the gold as if it were cursed.
"The guards," Montu commanded, stepping out into the evening air.
The four guards snapped to attention. They looked exhausted, their armor dusty and their faces haggard from the stress of the day. But when they looked at Montu, they saw something had changed. He wasn't just a talking zombie anymore. There was a predatory grace in his step that hadn't been there hours ago.
"The Chief," Montu said, the hood of his cloak casting a deep shadow over his face. "Take me to him. I believe it's time we discussed the price of spices... and the cost of survival."
The lead guard swallowed hard. "This way, My Lord. The Chief is... expecting you."
As they walked toward the center of the village, Montu glanced at the countdown in the corner of his vision.
[29 DAYS: 10 HOURS UNTIL RELEASE]