“Hmm, this seems to be an ‘Anti Sleep Ring’.
Fujiwara continued to study this ring with his eyeglass. It was brought in by a middle aged dwarf, one of his clients.
It was made of steel, and had a rustic elegance, though it was quite plain.
It is marked with “Thou Shalt Not Sleep”, inside.
“So, this is how he stopped sleep traps and magic, huh?”
“Is that so? Won’t be worth much to me, then.”
The dwarf said, apparently uninterested, kneading his lengthy beard.
The dwarf is a Seeker often called the “Grave Digger”, and not a particularly regular customer to the store, though he came by from time to time for appraisals.
While Appraisals were being done, Fujiwara tended to bring out rum and milk instead of coffee for him.
He had noticed that, from the way this surface was made, it was done carefully with a hammer. It didn’t seem to be made via mass production and this steel was one that was particularly hard to use, but made the result last a very long time.
‘It may not be an ordinary ring after all’. Somehow, Fujiwara felt as if his master was telling him so, but he couldn’t quite place it.
◆
“Dead, dead, and more dead.”
“…Ugh.”
The fifth floor of the Dungeon. It’s usually called “Public Cemetery”.
-According to one theory, those who have unfortunately lost their lives in the Dungeon are quietly whisked away and buried here. Since it is so large, it’s unlikely to find your friend’s departed, even if you search hard.
It is worth noting that the dwarf’s “Grave Digging” is always to find out who was buried where, not to earn coin.
“…Onya?”
He rushed in the direction he heard the voice, finding a girl holding a shortsword. They were apparently guarding the other girl, standing behind them. The opponents were three skeletons and one ghoul. A situation of numerical superiority.
“Grave Digger” ran in shouting, trying to gain the attention of the monster.
It wasn’t hard to guess why the dwarf was in this floor. It was to hunt these undead monsters.
◆
It was because of “Pandemonium”. On “Public Cemetery”, those that die instantly become monsters, adding to the enemy forces and then proceeding to help tear down their allies. In this exponential manner, the forces of the skeletons and ghouls grew.
That was how he had become the “Grave Digger”
By this time, he was terrified.
By the time he looked back he realized that no one else was following him.
“Do, seiiii!”
“Girls… Are you well?”
“I’m… okay.”
Undead monsters were particularly fickle, not hard to distract. The “Grave Digger” went for his new target. He was walking slowly, because if you carelessly approach any undead, you’d be in for trouble.
Skeletons, however, were light and could jump long distances, moving quickly. While it had no muscle, it was like a spring loaded toy. Attacks launched from insane distances could do plenty of damage through the use of momentum.
All that remained from the skeletons was piles of mush and one whole body, lying there. This was no small number to encounter in the “Public Cemetery”, but it was insignificant compared to what he had faced on that fateful day.
Every day, “Grave Digger” felt the hell within that regret, from running away at the time.
Some days he couldn’t even muster up the will to move. But, those he did, he returned to the “Public Cemetery”. He’d pierce undead monster after undead monster that fled from their graves. The “Pandemonium” had already been dealt with by others, but he felt some comfort fighting the undead here. He rarely even returned to the surface.
“Yes!”
The “Grave Digger” aimed for the teeth of the ghoul that was clambering after him. After dealing it a big blow, he aimed for the newly arrived skeleton to its left, and shook his shield at it.
“You’re next, huh?”
The “Grave Digger” pulled his hatchet out of the ghoul’s cranium, and moved to target the skeleton, when he noticed something growing from its right chest.
It was the same pattern as the skeleton the girls dispatched of. It seems they marked it for dead all too soon. However, it had firm grasp of one of the mush skeleton’s daggers, and while the “Grave Digger” could not pull out his axe, it struck. It struck fatally, slashing him across the chest. His throat was now welling with blood, and he had a hard time breathing.
The “Grave Digger” used the butt of his axe while roaring, still stuck in the Ghoul, to slam into the Skeleton’s skull, practically turning it into dust.
He didn’t really consider his life valuable.
The people at the tavern seemed to think the “Grave Digger” was angry, angry enough to slaughter undead on the fifth floor every day, for revenge or memorial.
But, that’s not right. The situation is different.
In truth, it was his atonement, and in confession, it was a passive, meaningless suicide.
But, he wasn’t ‘dead’ yet.
“Somehow, this ring seems too powerful compared to most.”
Fujiwara sighed deeply, adding this on after his appraisal.
“Normally, ‘Anti Sleep Rings’ only deny or help you ignore exhaustion. This one, however, seems to outright take the sleepiness away.”
The dwarf so named “Grave Digger” asked while stroking his long beard, before Fujiwara elaborated.
“What if someone hits you over the head?”
“Hmm.”
It is always necessary to pay a price while using a Granting Tool, generally the magic of the blood or hair of the user him or herself, but cases like this are relatively rare.
The exchange is a massive one, but it’d eliminate the feeling of things like hunger, sleepiness, and pain, so forth.
The customer looked at the ring with interest for the first time.
“……”
As Fujiwara’s master says, “If a Granting Tool is strong, the curse is equally so.” Manufacturers with a grudge or users tampering with the items lead to the circuit being modified, cursed ones give Giving Tools strong effects, but those effects will be warped.
Fujiwara remembered with a chilly mood the stamp he had seen just before finishing his appraisal, a clown’s face. He had a hunch he knew who placed it, before it dawned on him.
A person eager to use his immense talent only to make his recipients unfortunate.
While the benefits would drive the user mad, the losses would get them killed or make them a laughingstock.
There really wasn’t a single person happy to find his work, barring some specific collectors.
“If I may impose, I suggest selling or trashing it, and as soon as possible.”
He took the ring from the counter, and the baggy-eyed dwarf patiently nodded.
“Uncle Dwarf!”
“Are you okay?”
“We have no major issues.”
Behind the short sword girl, a girl that was clearly a magician with freckles asked, clearly afraid. It seemed that she had seen where the dagger struck him.
“Uuuh… Yeah…”
“There’s probably no huge issue.”
“Take this. It’s good, please drink it.”
The girls were clearly relieved, and a bit embarrassed.
“Yes. Though, I think we stretched ourselves out a bit too far…”
“That’d probably be good. You can try again, but be more careful.”
◆
After seeing the girls off, he returned to wandering the “Public Cemetery”.
He wondered when he’d next go to the surface and drink liquor.
“…”
“Grave Digger” placed his hand on his chest.
However, his breathing was steady, and no matter how much time passed,
He looked down, confirming the dull colors of his skin.
The ring was far more powerful than the shopkeeper thought.
Due to trading away the “Suffering and pain required to live in this world”, he barely felt pain, fatigue, or even hungry. No matter how much blood he lost, or even if he stopped breathing, his heart kept beating. He stayed conscious.
But, his flesh would no longer sleep, and even his soul remained steady, to his surprise. Imperceptibly, the undead hunter had become an undead, one that drank in the tavern and walked about in town.
“Grave Digger” muttered to himself quietly.
However, he hesitated to go back to the surface.
If they discovered he was undead, he’d either receive a forced purification from the guys at the temple as an ‘evil being’, or he’d be used as a test subject from those guys at the academy.
He thought this while walking, before seeing a familiar sight.
“…Haaa,”
What would be the point, when he had died in the fifth.
When he made encampment here, he had company, and he was so excited making plans to reach the tenth that he forgot food, liquor, map, and sleep, so bad they had to go back to town and try again.
“Sure. I’m interested, I’ll go.”, he thought he heard a familiar voice, one from his group.
“Surely something interesting waits.”
“…Oh, that, because it’ll be fun.”
The “Grave Digger” walked toward the staircase cheerfully.
‘I don’t die anymore, ha,’
◆
Discrimination Certificate “Anti-Sleep Ring” (Cursed!)
“The world offers to deprive from you slumber eternally, thou melancholic and the pained, and in exchange it shall take your pain and suffering required to live in this world like a sea’s ripples fading into the night.”
Goblin Shamans and sleeping gas can’t put you to sleep, since the ring prevents it. In the Dungeon, even a moment of sleep or exhaustion can be fatal, so this tool gives you some room to maneuver.
If you use this only once, sleep is not necessary, hunger is not any risk, and pain is negligible. You could work vigorously, unfeeling. However, the result is that you would look like the living dead, walking aimlessly in your dreamlike state of non-danger. You may or may not even notice you actually dying.
At the risk of this falling into the wrong hands, it is highly suggested you dedicate it to the temple or hide it very deep in the Dungeon.