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The battle with the “Wood Spirits Are So Cute” team ended in five minutes, and four additional “elite undead” were added to my undead army...

Don’t misunderstand! I didn’t kill them—there was no need to.

I simply told them that I was undertaking a special mission for the wood spirits, that I had disguised myself as an undead mage in order to obtain intelligence... and they all actually believed me!

Yep, they believed me immediately and without any hesitation. They even tried to extort me, saying, “You must be getting paid so many Justice Points for this. As a righteous Holy Knight, you absolutely can’t hoard the payment to yourself! We should all share with each other and do this mission together!” Sure, I replied, why not. And they joined me in order to receive some Justice Points for very little work done.

“This rotten meat is disgusting.”

The barbarian Ah Gen was now a revolting Abomination with pink pieces of meat stuck over his body, all thanks to my intentional costume makeup.

He was covered in rotting bones and rotting flesh. Not to mention, he was an Abomination so poor that he didn’t even have pants on his pudgy bottom half. His intestines trailed along the ground, his chin was crooked, and blood dripped from his mouth as he trudged forward—truly the perfect Abomination!

“Actually, with my job class, I should be disguised as an elegant member of the Blood Tribe! Under the cover of night, I shall walk across rooftops and flash between shadows to steal away the lives of my sworn enemies, the thief guild assassins.”

“Elegant? Also, why does this rooftop battling proclamation of yours sound so familiar? Could it be that you’ve read the legendary book known as ‘Assassin’?”

“Yep, reading that book back in the day is exactly the reason I became a thief!”

The more he nodded, the more I felt that I had shot myself in the foot yet again. I hesitated, wondering if I should tell him that it was I who had written “Assassin” back in the day to make some money. It was a story filled with wish fulfillment, a harem protagonist, and had plenty of logical errors. However, it had become mysteriously popular as it was a fun read. But anyone that truly tried to imitate the main character’s lifestyle while becoming a thief would probably die more than one hundred times a year if they had that many lives to spend.

But looking at his huge smile and honest demeanor, I could only exclaim how he must be as tough as a cockroach because he had yet to die. I also came to the conclusion that it would be best not to ruin his worldview. Yep, it definitely wasn’t because I felt it would be quite troublesome if he went crazy, furious at having his dreams shattered or anything like that.

“So, his dream is to become a high-flying thief amongst the rooftops?”

Judging by the barbarian Ah Gen’s weight and bulk, if he truly tried leaping across the rooftops like the main character of that novel, the main thing to take into consideration would no longer be stealth, but how sturdy the rooftop was... Just think about it: what if you were “having fun” in the middle of the night when something tremendous landed on your home’s rooftop with a thunderous clap... Yep, I’ve definitely never tried something like that, nor have I ever gotten stuck in someone’s ceiling!

Just imagining this big lout “also” getting stuck in some home’s ceiling made me feel like it would be a great scene to witness! Perhaps I should even have him try it out, together with a red and white robe and a fake white beard. And if someone finds him, he could even say, “Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas! I’m Santa Claus and I only give gifts to obedient children. What? It’s summer? I apologize for getting lost. Those damned goblin compasses are so unreliable, and my dumb unicorns didn’t even remind me! I actually flew to the wrong half of the world!”

Cough—cough—I seem to have gotten carried away with my imagination. Let’s get back to the main topic. Ah Gen was making use of my personal and thorough “disgusting undead” fashion accessories package, perfect for any powerful warrior. Not only would it attract aggro, it would also be quite practical. Those hulking rotting muscles and bulging eyeballs would even help increase one’s Charisma towards banshees.

“...Roland, we need to have a little chat. I think you have some misunderstandings about banshees.”

Alright then, it seemed I accidentally said something bad about banshees in front of a banshee herself. Just thinking about how this former Banshee Queen was getting more and more used to the three most common actions of cats, meowing, licking, and purring cutely... actually, I meant the three actions of the cat family—jumping at me, biting me, and whipping me with her tail—I was seriously considering how I should explain things to her.

Cough, I seem to have gotten sidetracked again. Let’s get back on track this time—I promise.

With my undead fashion accessories disguising them, the Wood Spirits are so Cute team—yep—this recently established team for worshipping wood spirit cuties was now horrendously ugly.

As I mentioned previously, Ah Gen was wearing an Abomination costume. The priest Betty was wearing a cape that summoned shadows, which helped him pretend to be an undead shadow priest, while the handsome elf bard turned into an equally handsome Blood Tribe member who had some blood poured on him as a disguise. The heroic and stout dwarven auntie... was still an incredibly stout dwarven auntie!

This wasn’t my fault for lacking talent in applying undead makeup. I truly couldn’t think of how to disguise someone like her, with a barrel-shaped figure, a weight of several hundred kilograms and a height less than 1.4 meters into an undead who only had bones and rotting flesh. And if she was disguised as an Abomination? Only an idiot of an undead mage would make such a tiny Abomination.

“Blood Tribe? Any real Blood Tribe member would cry if they saw a fellow member with such a body figure.”

Of course, I finally found a method in the end: I put a monstrous cover on her to disguise her as a rather overweight corpse zombie. Although she still had the special barrel-shaped figure of a dwarf, any other undead mage that saw her would likely misconstrue her as a dwarf zombie who had some problems when transferring to become an undead.

Of course, the prerequisite for this... was that Mary the dwarf would be willing to let go of her own alcohol barrel! What corpse zombie would carry such a large alcohol barrel on their back—and even secretly take a few chugs from time to time?

However, I knew that convincing her to let go of her “baggage” was nigh impossible. There was a common saying in the land of Eich: “Trying to make a dwarf let go of their alcohol is just as impossible as making an elf let go of their pride and artistry.”

“How pitiful... These ‘character skins’ of mine are of excellent quality. They’re definitely not a cash grab by some money hungry company, and I’m not even charging them any money. They don’t know how good they have it. Hmph, I’m going to have to catch myself one of those no-good merchants and make them suffer. All they do is draw a hat and some random accessories on the face and treat it as a brand-new character skin to be sold? They’re not as moral as I am.”

“Stop complaining so much; you’re lucky enough they’re willing to help you for free.”—Harloys.

Alright then. Although these terrible teammates of mine didn’t really seem that strong, at least I didn’t need to focus on controlling them. I supposed that they technically did count as some combat strength. Of course, due to certain reasons, I kept a slight distance from them.

“A spy? The undead are capable of planting a spy among the living!?”

I told them the information I just received, which caused them all to be truly astonished. In the minds of most normal people—even most adventurers—the undead were no different to wild beasts incapable of communication. Undead typically attacked anything living they saw. How could such existences possibly plant a spy amongst the living? Let me reword it a bit better: what could a spy working for the undead possibly hope to gain?

Of course, the fact that most adventurers had such views meant that most adventurers were still novices. The Xiluo Empire had plenty of spies within the human kingdoms. For nobles that had both power and wealth, their greatest enemy would be death. Yet, asking a noble to cultivate in order to lengthen their lifespan was no different from killing them. In that case, the ceremony to become an undead was probably the easiest method for a noble to become “undying.”

Even if a noble was dissatisfied with becoming an ugly undead, there would always be the elegant Blood Tribe as a possible choice. And if the noble in question still wanted to walk under the sun, there were plenty of evil rituals that sacrificed others’ lives and blood that could satisfy their desires.

Not only would corrupt nobles end up becoming spies for the undead, there would also be veteran adventurers that lost everything due to an injury, those reaching the end of their lifespans who hadn’t cultivated to a powerful enough level, or magical geniuses who were naturally skilled at dark or undead magic. All such people would receive plenty by allying with the undead.

Not only was the Xiluo Empire like this, Yongye was also the same back in the day. Living people would automatically come joining of their own volition. There would be powerful individuals that were experts in dark magic, curses, or other such taboo magics. There were also utter idiots who felt it would be “quite cool to join up with the villainous antagonists.” As for the former type, I would quite happily add them to my cannon fodder troops. They would prove their worth and strength if they survived, and I’d give them what they wanted in an equivalent exchange. As for the idiot type, I would also add them to my cannon fodder troops. It was just that I would turn them into undead first... and those that practiced taboo magic would still keep their taboo magic even as a corpse zombie. At the very least, it would give my enemies some difficulties.

I hesitated for a moment when faced with their astonishment as I thought about what to tell them.

“What they can obtain? Probably far more than you can imagine, such as strength or limitless lifespan and so on. As long as you’re willing to pay a price, becoming undead is a far quicker path to power than slow cultivation. In just about every story out there, as long as you don’t care about the consequences, those on the path of evil always have methods to become powerful far faster than those who stay on the path of good.”

I didn’t say anything else to these teammates of mine that seemed to be taking in my words. Reality was forever cruel. Rather than having them naively believe that all adventurers were their companions and on the side of the living, I might as well give them this free “lesson” so that they could be prepared for any betrayals beforehand.

Soon, I learned the information that I had been wanting from my new undead mage servant, whose name was Kug.

“A short person wearing a cape, who had a dark green snake-shaped dagger and an aura of darkness about him? His left foot seems to be injured as he walks with a limp?”

I glanced questioningly towards my “teammates”. After all, I had only recently returned to the Forest of Dreams. Rather than a newcomer like me, they should have been more familiar with the adventurers here.

Yet, some of them looked at the sky, while others made a show of inspecting their weapons. Not a single one of them was able to tell me who this person might be. Obviously, none of them were reliable at all. Perhaps they weren’t even interested in other adventurers and never attempted to gather information on others.

I helplessly shook my head and accepted the letter that Kug handed me. From a certain standpoint, this was truly ironic. The undead placed a spy amongst the living, yet the spy managed to give such important information to a spy placed amongst the undead by the living.

The yellow letter was quite light. It appeared to be a normal letter simply sealed by some red wax which could easily be torn off. Yet, judging from the faint mana pulses the wax seal was emitting, there was a tiny common defensive spell placed upon it. If the letter opener didn’t know the correct way to open this letter and casually opened the letter as he pleased, it would self-destruct and inform the person who placed the defensive spell on the letter.

Yet it was all meaningless in front of me.

I lightly tapped and sealed the wax seal in a tiny block of ice which possessed the power of eternal hibernation with absolute zero. This tiny little magical defense would forever be frozen in time.

I tore open the letter but saw nothing other than a bunch of numbers. It would appear that this was a number code, something quite common among spies. Obviously, this was meant to be read only by someone with the solution to the number code. Although I could probably figure the code out by spending some time, and faintly recalled that I had learned before how to solve such codes...

“I remember that you always failed your code-breaking and basic math classes.”

Yep, even back when I was studying at the Cloud Tower, I couldn’t escape from annoying classes such as math and engineering together with the elemental magic and foundational magic classes.

But... what was with those so-called “basic math” classes!? Basic math classes here actually involved calculus and solid geometry? Didn’t they know that in my first life, I chose the Law major just because I hated studying higher-level math!?

“...As a law student, I hate math! I hate it even more that there’s higher-level math even in another world!”

Still, although I was a delinquent student who always failed or barely passed his classes, I had now achieved the dream of all my fellow students.

“Teacher Harloys, it’s all up to you! You’re the only one I can rely on.”

“...You only think of me at such a time.”

Yep, even though my basics weren’t adequate, I was carrying a grandpa—er—a grandma cat who was currently jumping at me in protest... I had a teacher with me!

“...The wood spirits are planning to expand... the Forest of Dreams’ territory, which is expected... expected to occur on the second Sunday in May, which is three days from now...”

Harloys’ decoding got better and better as she steadily improved her speed. It was obvious that she had cracked the code. Yet, the more I heard, the more worried I became. The spy had learned a truly high-level secret. It was apparent that the spy was a very high-ranking adventurer.

But precisely because of the cruel reality staring at me, I had an idea. Perhaps I could use the spy to my advantage!