Once Chris was awake, he noticed the Browns had finished cleaning up the carnage and disposing of the bodies. He gave a satisfied nod before saying, "Good work, boys. Take the rest of the day off, then join the demo team in taking apart buildings and sorting materials."
The minions all shouted, "Yes, Master!" before happily collapsing into rest, their shrill laughter echoing faintly as they sprawled out to relax.
Chris stretched out his hand, his expression firm and commanding as he began the summoning of his advisor — the unforgettable Gnarl. A brownish sigil flared to life beneath his palm, glowing with a harsh, molten light that bathed the area in an eerie glow. When the light finally faded, an old brown minion stood hunched over, his frail frame cloaked in a tattered black robe. A weathered lantern hung from a pole tied around his waist, flickering dimly as he turned his head and took in his surroundings.
When his eyes landed on Chris, a crooked smile spread across his wrinkled face. "Ah, there you are, sire," Gnarl rasped, his voice gravelly yet dripping with pride. "I am Gnarl — your loyal advisor. It is always a treat to witness the rise of a new Overlord. The Almighty has already informed me of our purpose — to travel the multiverse and pit ourselves against other Overlords to prove our superiority. This goes beyond mere destruction and dominance…" His grin widened, eyes gleaming with wicked delight. "This is something I didn't know I needed until I had it."
He tilted his head respectfully. "Now, before we continue, may I have my Lord's true name?"
Chris raised an eyebrow. "It's Chris."
"Bah, not that!" Gnarl snapped, waving a clawed hand dismissively. "That's your human name, and you are far more than that. Your real name, please, my Lord."
Chris hesitated for a moment, then said quietly, "Nihil."
Before, he'd thought the name sounded strange — almost alien — but now, as he spoke it aloud, it rolled off his tongue with weight and confidence. It felt right.
Gnarl's grin turned sly and approving. "That's better. Now, if I'm to be of any real use, I'll need an update on your progress."
Chris quickly filled him in — the territory he'd captured, the work the Browns were doing tearing down buildings and other structures for resources.
Gnarl nodded thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. "I see… good. We will need those resources. But until you unlock Grubby and Giblet, they won't be of much use." His yellowed eyes then shifted toward Momo. "And who is this girl?"
Chris glanced over at her and replied, "She's my subordinate — Momo."
"Ah," Gnarl said, studying her with interest. "A zombie. You can either wait until we have Mortis, and he can resurrect her fully… or you can let her evolve naturally. Personally, I recommend the latter."
Chris frowned. "Wait — evolve?"
"Yes, evolve," Gnarl replied, smirking faintly. "That's why she has a racial level. Once it's maxed out, she'll evolve into a stronger species of demon or monster. She may even stop being undead altogether once she evolves high enough. I recommend this over resurrection — if resurrected, she'll return to her previous race and lose the benefit of evolution. She would have to rely solely on jobs for strength. But if left to evolve, she'll eventually reach a race with intelligence and be able to use the job system in addition to her evolution."
His grin turned sharp. "So she'll be twice as strong. Either way, the girl will never be the same again."
Chris's brows furrowed slightly. "What do you mean?"
Gnarl chuckled darkly. "Undead she may be, but she still has her soul. That's what makes her superior to other undead — the lights are still on in there, and she is very much still home. Whether she evolves or gets resurrected, she has forever been changed at her core. She's still her… just now she's evil. Comes with being an Overlord's subordinate. No matter how good you were before, eventually, you will be corrupted."
Chris's voice grew quieter, thoughtful. "So even if I wish them to remain the same, they'll inevitably be changed?"
"Not changed, per se," Gnarl corrected, his tone almost patient. "They're still themselves. All the corruption does is remove their inhibitions, making them more prone to doing what they truly desire. This both frees and corrupts them. The same will be true for you, my Lord. As your Overlord level rises, you'll still be you — just darker… and free of things like inhibitions and moral standing."
Chris let out a quiet breath, his mind still turning over Gnarl's words. "Okay," he said at last, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'll process that later, but for now, I think we should focus on our next move. I was thinking of staying on the outskirts and moving in as we claim more territory."
Gnarl leaned over the open holographic map, the eerie blue light reflecting off his wrinkled features. His eyes narrowed as he studied it carefully before replying, "I disagree, sire. Sure, we're literally at the bottom of the map at the moment, but I say rather than focusing on the outskirts, we capture the land to the left of our current position, then start moving upward—adding more minions and territory as we go."
Chris frowned, glancing at the map with doubt. "Wouldn't that be more dangerous? We're currently under-equipped and too weak for something that risky."
Gnarl gave a raspy chuckle, shaking his head. "That's precisely why we need to move the way I suggested. There are bound to be things the minions can use as better weapons in the shops and factories in the downtown or industrial area to our left. And there is most likely a creature of intelligence leading the horde. If we catch its attention, I'd rather we have already eliminated the majority of its would-be forces while growing ours."
Chris's expression softened slightly as he considered the logic. "Well… that does make sense." He straightened, giving a firm nod. "Alright, Gnarl, we'll go with your attack plan. Anything else we should take care of?"
Gnarl stroked his chin thoughtfully, his lantern swaying faintly at his side. "We should see about establishing a stable food supply. The minions don't need to eat, but it is one of their few pleasures. I'd suggest you start by summoning some Blues and seeing if the sea is as dead as it looks."
Chris nodded. "Alright." He raised his hand, his voice calm but commanding as five glowing blue sigils appeared on the ground before him. The magic pulsed, rippling across the dirt before five figures rose from the light — the Blue Minions.
Unlike their brown cousins, the Blues had fins where their ears should have been, webbed hands and feet, and slick, amphibious skin that shimmered faintly under the sun. They were the only minions capable of swimming and breathing underwater. Though they weren't great fighters, their true strength lay in their ability to heal wounds and resurrect the recently deceased. Recalling souls from the afterlife, however — or restoring an undead to life — was something only Mortis, the strongest of the Blues, could accomplish.
Chris looked over them, his tone steady but firm. "Boys, explore the harbor and see if there's anything alive down there."
The Blues nodded eagerly, their gurgling voices filled with excitement. Without hesitation, they dove into the dark waters, vanishing beneath the surface with barely a ripple.
Gnarl clasped his gnarled hands behind his back, his lantern swaying lightly at his side. "Alright," he rasped, his tone carrying that familiar mix of cunning and amusement. "While that's going on, let's prepare to invade downtown, sire. It is just above the harbor district, after all."
Chris raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms thoughtfully. "I thought we were going to the industrial area first."
Gnarl gave a knowing chuckle, shaking his head. "I'd feel more comfortable doing that after we have the Greens available to us. Dark factories are great places for horrifying monstrosities to hide. Having our scouts ready will be very necessary, my lord."
Chris exhaled through his nose, conceding the point. "Fair enough." He extended his hand, summoning twenty more Browns. The ground trembled faintly as a cluster of glowing brown sigils flared to life around him. One by one, the sturdy little creatures clawed their way out of the earth, their eager grins wide and their crude weapons already in hand.
"Move on to the downtown area ahead of me, boys," Chris ordered, his tone steady and commanding. "Secure a defensive position."
The Browns saluted in unison, their voices ringing out as they shouted, "Yes, Master!" before charging off toward the city's heart, their laughter echoing through the streets.
Chris turned to Gnarl, his expression hardening into focus. "Gnarl, hang back and oversee things here. I need this city broken down to its useful materials so that when we've fully captured it, we can begin construction. We need food, water, and a forge. I want the Tower as soon as possible—but it's not the top priority."
Gnarl nodded approvingly, his aged face twisting into a pleased grin. "Indeed, sire. Minions make great soldiers and workers, but not much else. If you want things like farmers, cooks, or teachers for your world, we'll need people with brains. And those people," he said, tapping his temple with a clawed finger, "will need food and places to live."
Chris adjusted his gauntlet and gave a curt nod. "I'm off, Gnarl. Let me know what the Blues find upon my return."
Gnarl bowed slightly, his grin widening. "May fortune favor you, sire."
Chris and Momo made their way downtown, eventually catching up to the Browns—but what they found made Chris's stomach tighten. The entire downtown area was crawling with the undead. The horde was so massive and densely packed that the zombies were practically tripping over one another, shoving and stumbling as they shuffled aimlessly through the streets. The sheer sight of it made Chris's pulse quicken; there had to be thousands of them, maybe more.
Before panic could take hold, a faint whisper reached his ear. "Master, come this way," a Brown hissed urgently.
Chris turned his head to the right and spotted the little creature crouched behind a broken window, beckoning him closer. Without hesitation, he motioned for Momo to follow. The pair slipped through the debris-strewn street, careful not to draw attention, and followed the Brown into a nearby shop.
The interior was dark, the air thick with the stench of rot. The small minion led them up a flight of stairs littered with mangled zombie corpses—proof that the Browns had been very busy in the short time since their arrival.
Once they emerged onto the roof, Chris finally understood the full scale of the situation. All twenty Browns were already there, crouched low and keeping watch. From their vantage point, the entire downtown district stretched before them like a living nightmare. The horde below was endless—every road, every sidewalk was flooded with decaying bodies.
Chris's eyes narrowed as he scanned the area. Past the undead swarm, he could see makeshift walls and barricades—remnants of a desperate last stand. Looking down the main road to both the left and right, he spotted similar structures stretching for blocks. "Looks like the bottom half of the city was quarantined before everything went to hell," he muttered grimly. "Doubt it helped much… but with this many undead in one place, we're gonna have trouble."
He clenched his jaw, thinking fast. "We need to retreat for now and come back when we're stronger."
Leading Momo and the Browns, Chris carefully withdrew from the rooftop, retracing their steps back to the harbor. Once there, he relayed everything to Gnarl, who listened with his usual calculating patience.
"I see," Gnarl said after a moment, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "You made the correct decision, sire. Falling back was wise. It would be better to deal with the downtown area once we have the Reds. They can thin the herd by raining death from above." His crooked smile deepened. "Now then, bring up the map again."
Chris did as asked, the holographic projection flickering to life in front of them. Gnarl leaned in, studying it with a sharp, practiced eye. "It looks like we have three choices," he mused. "Aside from downtown, there's a shopping district around the park area you've already captured, a quarry near the industrial zone, and of course, the industrial area itself. Any of these will bolster our forces and strengthen your position. But," he added with a low chuckle, "eventually, we will need to take downtown to keep advancing."
Chris nodded, his gaze fixed on the glowing map. "I'll go for the quarry. If I'm lucky, it's just a massive pit filled with undead."
Gnarl bowed slightly. "Very well, sire." His yellow eyes followed as Chris turned and walked off with Momo in tow, their silhouettes fading into the dim light of the ruined harbor.
Not long after their departure, the Blues resurfaced from the dark water, their gills fluttering. Gnarl turned toward them expectantly. "Ah, good, you're back. What did you find?"
The lead Blue bowed. "Sea dead. No fish left. Plenty of plants—algae and other good stuff though. Can use for fish farm once in new world."
Gnarl tapped his claw against his lantern pole thoughtfully. "I see. In that case, when the sire returns, I'll have him show me exactly where our possession of the sea ends so we can begin constructing a wall." He let out a raspy sigh, muttering, "We need Grubby badly right now…"
Once Chris arrived at the quarry, his hopes were rewarded—it really was just a massive canyon filled to the brim with undead. The air was thick with decay, the scent of rot wafting up from the countless corpses shambling below.
His watch suddenly beeped, the holographic display flickering to life as it spoke:
Quest 5 Issued
Description: Take the Quarry
Objective: Slay 500 Undead
Reward: 1 Overlord Level, Beginner Dungeon Unlocked
Chris arched an eyebrow at the last line, his lips quirking into a half-smirk. "Wait… a dungeon? Like, for grinding? I thought that was the whole point of capturing this city," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh well, I'm not gonna complain. I'll need places for future subordinates to grind anyway."
He exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing as he looked down into the dark canyon where hundreds of undead staggered aimlessly below. "Let's take care of this, Momo."
Momo followed him as he began his descent the echo of their footsteps soon drowned out by the low, hungry moans of the undead waiting below.