Warhammer Fanfic: Starting with a Core Cabin

Dealing with this girl wasn't exactly dangerous for Duanmu Huai—but it was definitely a pain.

"Just listen to me—"

"Don't come any closer!"

"I'm not your enemy—"

"No! Don't come near me! Father said I'm not allowed to talk to strangers! Go away!!"

Haaah…

Looking at the purple-haired girl in front of him, Duanmu Huai was speechless.

At first, he thought he was in for a tough fight. But once things got physical, he realized the girl's combat strength wasn't particularly impressive—at most, it was on par with his own. That came as something of a relief. At least she wasn't overpowered. If it had been Olgis instead of him, one punch and the girl would've probably dropped to her knees begging Duanmu Huai not to die.

That was the level of strength it took to rip a Bloodthirster apart bare-handed. There was no way Duanmu Huai, a mere Level 20 Inquisitor, could've handled that.

But he quickly started to regret it.

He'd rather fight her.

Maybe it was because she'd watched her father get killed—right now, the girl was in a hysterical state of frenzy. No matter what Duanmu Huai said, she responded like a child throwing a tantrum—"I'm not listening, I'm not listening, I don't wanna hear it!" It was driving him to the brink of despair.

There was no helping it. If soft words didn't work, he'd have to take the hard route!

Gritting his teeth, Duanmu Huai charged her again. This time, he gripped his warhammer tightly and struck with force. One clean hit sent her giant wrench flying out of her hands, and before she could react, Duanmu Huai grabbed her slender wrist and slammed her against the wall.

Her arms were so thin and fragile that he could wrap his whole hand around both wrists at once. The girl was visibly terrified now, twisting and struggling in panic. Duanmu Huai sighed, then raised his free hand and removed his helmet, locking eyes with her.

"Look at me."

"Eek—!!"

Startled by his roar, the girl froze, instinctively lifting her gaze toward him.

Then... she tilted her head—and fainted.

At the same time, the ground around them began to tremble again, like an earthquake. In an instant, the entire mansion collapsed, and boundless darkness swallowed Duanmu Huai whole.

When he opened his eyes again, the mansion was gone. What lay before him now was a ruin covered in vines and wild grass. A beam of morning sunlight filtered through the gaps in the forest canopy, casting its light over the broken wreckage in front of him.

"…Haah…"

With a helpless sigh, Duanmu Huai silently picked up his helmet and put it back on.

Looks like he failed.

Even so, he didn't leave. Places like this were like dungeons—they looped in cycles. That meant when night fell again, he could re-enter the mansion and repeat everything he'd seen, over and over, until he figured out the solution.

Damn it, how the hell am I supposed to solve this?!

He had a general idea of what was going on. A father lost his beloved daughter and tried to bring her back to life—but the revived girl wasn't the same as the daughter he once knew. She was a completely new being. Regardless, he had touched the taboo of resurrecting the dead, so someone eventually came to eliminate him. The girl, witnessing her father's death, went berserk and lost control... If even the elven scout could clearly explain this story, then that meant in the end, justice must have triumphed over evil.

So, how was he supposed to break the cycle…?

This might have been a beginner planet, but Duanmu Huai hadn't gone through the Empire's storylines. Before transmigrating, he'd started in the eastern realm of Zhendan. After all, the starting region was based on server location. He had only heard of some of the more famous events on the Empire's side, never participated. As for these fragmented dungeon instances—he had no idea what to expect.

"I don't understand, Master."

Just as Duanmu Huai was racking his brain, Olgis suddenly spoke up.

"Hmm? What is it?"

"That man…"

Olgis paused, then continued in a low voice.

"I don't understand why he acted so contradictorily. I could clearly see how much he loved his daughter—but at the same time, he seemed to deeply resent her. But if he hated her, why risk his life to protect her?"

"Humans are complicated like that."

Duanmu Huai shrugged and replied.

"I can more or less guess. On one hand, he was heartbroken that the girl he brought back wasn't truly his daughter. But on the other hand… his daughter really was brought back to life."

"…I still don't get it, Master."

Olgis furrowed her brow and thought for a moment, but still shook her head.

"For humans, there are two ways to affirm the self. One is appearance. The other is the soul."

As he spoke, Duanmu Huai pointed to Olgis.

"Look—take your name, Olgis. It represents you. It's yours alone. When I call 'Olgis,' I'm referring to you—the silver-haired, twin-tailed girl in a fancy dress, cute-looking, quiet, and full of curiosity. The first part describes your appearance. The second part defines your personality and inner self. If one day your soul changed and you were no longer silent and reserved but became a lively, outgoing girl—then to me, you wouldn't be you anymore… at least not the you I know."

"But… wouldn't I still be me?"

"Self-perception and how others perceive you often don't align."

Just like how, when playing games, everyone assumes they're chatting with a fiery-tempered Sichuan girl—never imagining it's actually a 6'6" foot-scratching burly dude on the other end.

As Duanmu Huai spoke, he stood up, planning to comb through the mansion ruins again to see if any clues had been left behind.

"That's why humans are so complicated."

Upon hearing this, Olgis fell silent. Whether she understood or not was anyone's guess… but for Duanmu Huai, that was all he could really say.

"Oh, right."

Just then, something occurred to Duanmu Huai. He turned around, took off his helmet, and looked at Olgis.

"Olgis, what do you think of how I look?"

Come to think of it, Olgis had seen him without his helmet more than once, but never reacted in the slightest. That made Duanmu Huai curious.

This time, however, Olgis responded quickly.

"I like Master's appearance very much."

"Oh? Really?"

Though the puppet girl was quiet by nature, Duanmu Huai didn't think she was capable of lying. Hearing that response actually made him a little happy. So someone did like his looks, huh?

"Yes. I still can't distinguish human appearances very well. Master's facial features are very recognizable—I like that."

"...…"

After hearing Olgis's explanation, Duanmu Huai silently put his helmet back on and turned around.

Well, thank you very much.

After taking that unexpected little jab from Olgis, Duanmu Huai quickly adjusted his mood and resumed his search for clues.

He first revisited the graveyard he had seen through his soul memory—but it had already been smashed to pieces. Even the headstones were shattered, making it impossible to tell who had been buried there. With no leads, Duanmu Huai had no choice but to return to the ruined mansion and see if anything useful could be salvaged.

Yet as he searched, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

The reason was simple: that man's death had been… far too mundane.

To an outsider watching that scene, it might have seemed like the soldiers had gone too far. But Duanmu Huai knew better—if the man really was a necromancer, then the soldiers' actions were entirely justified.

That was exactly the problem.

A legitimate necromancer—no matter how unbalanced in skills—wouldn't go down that easily.

Faked death?

Doesn't seem like it...

Assuming everything Duanmu Huai had seen was true, then the man reviving his dead daughter would indeed be standard necromancer behavior—but… there were subtle inconsistencies.

As a veteran player, Duanmu Huai was very familiar with the undead and necromancers, and he knew all the standard tricks. Simply put, necromancers only had two ways to "revive" the dead.

One method was forbidden necromantic magic, which bound the soul of the deceased to their corpse, creating the illusion of resurrection.

The other was reanimating the body alone, turning it into a soulless puppet or zombie.

But the purple-haired girl didn't match either case. She had no past memories, yet she clearly wasn't an empty puppet either.

Sure, there was a chance the necromancer had made a deal with a Chaos deity and been tricked by them into reviving the girl—but Duanmu Huai ruled that out. When the girl went berserk earlier, he hadn't sensed any trace of Chaos divine power or aura.

Which led to the most absurd possibility of all: that the man… somehow created a brand-new soul inside a dead body?

That wasn't entirely impossible. When Duanmu Huai had subdued the girl, he'd noticed the bandages around her neck, the stitched-together marks on her torso and chest, and the bolt that seemed to pierce her skull. It all reminded him of a certain infamous monster from his own world.

Frankenstein.

A story practically everyone knew—Doctor Victor Frankenstein had sewn together parts from dead bodies to create a new life, and awakened it. Sure, the story ended in tragedy, but that wasn't the point. The point was, if he applied the logic of Frankenstein's tale, then all the weird inconsistencies suddenly made sense.

First of all, the man wasn't a necromancer at all. He might've been a scholar or scientist of some kind, who used Frankenstein-like methods to bring his daughter back. Of course, no one on the outside would care about such details. All they would see was a man who had resurrected his daughter and assume he'd either sold his soul to an evil god or fallen into darkness and become a necromancer.

That would also explain why the man was so weak—because he might've been just a scholar, someone without any real combat strength to begin with.

Then there was the soul inside the purple-haired girl's body—a soul that had never existed before. As far as Duanmu Huai knew, no magic or even Chaos god had the power to create an entirely new soul from nothing. But Frankenstein's story… that made it slightly plausible.

Unfortunately, none of this helped his current investigation.

Duanmu Huai practically turned the entire mansion upside down and still found nothing of value. He didn't even know the purple-haired girl's name. Tch… If he could at least learn her name, maybe he'd be able to communicate with her more smoothly.

Then again… who knew?

As night fell, Duanmu Huai had no choice but to give up searching among the ruins overrun by weeds and vines. Time, that butcher's blade, had erased nearly all traces from this place.

It looked like his only option was to re-enter that world and keep looking for answers.

(End of chapter)