Chapter 95

“I’m a necromancer.”

The moment I turned Birken, the Pope’s aide, into a half-dead wreck, the holy knights immediately dragged me out of the confessional.

The eyes of the knights escorting me looked ready to kill me on the spot.

Well, naturally.

They warned me not to cause trouble, and barely five minutes later I went and caused a massive incident.

From the perspective of the knights who had personally brought me in, their pride must’ve been in shambles.

“Until the day of the trial, do not let anyone enter this place!”

…That was the order barked out two days ago.

I stretched lazily inside the new lodgings I was slowly getting used to.

“Ugh~! My back hurts like hell.”

After saying that, I looked around the cathedral’s underground prison and scratched the back of my messy head.

“Another gloomy damn day.”

The stale underground dampness.

Dust left untouched for ages.

From experience, even the Kripel Reformatory felt more comfortable than this prison.

“Heartless bastards. You call this food?”

I grumbled while dusting off the hardtack piled in the corner.

No, could you even call this bread?

When I tried smashing it against the prison wall to break it apart, the wall cracked instead.

I was staring at the perfectly hardened hardtack when—

—There’s probably no one besides you who’d slash off an aide’s wrist in the very heart of the Order.

With a short sigh of admiration, Death Knight Raven slowly revealed himself.

—Why spill blood right in the middle of the Order?

“There’s no reason.”

I shrugged as I answered Raven’s question.

“I just did it because it pissed me the hell off.”

After saying that, I held both hands out toward Raven.

Slice—!

Raven’s sword instantly severed the shackles binding my wrists.

—You seemed like you were moving according to some plan, and now you act purely on emotion.

Speaking for the first time in a while, he sounded genuinely intrigued.

—The more I learn about you, the harder you are to understand.

“I’ve actually toned my temper down a lot.”

After brushing off my freed hands, I looked at the prison bars blocking my way.

“To think they tried to imprison me with something like this.”

Muttering that, I formed a hand seal toward Raven behind me.

Crackle!

A spell infused with demonic energy glowed blue, and a couple of runes seeped into Raven’s body.

—What are you doing?

“Hold on. It won’t hurt.”

After silencing the still-questioning Raven, I observed the progress of the spell.

Shrrk—!

—This is…?

Raven’s expression turned bizarre as he raised one hand.

“Good. Success.”

The index finger on his right hand had transformed into the key to my prison cell.

“Now go use that and open the door.”

A brief silence followed.

Raven stared blankly at his finger, now shaped like a key, for quite some time.

—I thought you were about to use some grand necromantic art…

Raven shook his head as he spoke, but I merely shrugged.

“What, then? You want to smash the prison door apart like the shackles? If we get caught, are you gonna take my place in the cell?”

—Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything.

As though resigned to my mockery, Raven passed through the iron bars.

Clank—!

Seeing the prison door swing wide open filled me with immense satisfaction.

“This is why spirit bodies are so convenient.”

This was the signature specialty of Archimond Necromancy: Form Transformation.

A technique impossible for ordinary undead made from corpses to even dream of using.

And unless you were a genius necromancer on my level, the very idea would never occur to you.

—Still, this is truly absurd.

While I was basking in self-satisfaction, Raven walked out behind me and looked around the prison.

—No matter how much time has passed, to think the surveillance over necromancers would be this lax.

“Well. Even the Kripel bastards are begging aid from the Empire these days.”

The grand cathedral was a place for believers, not prisoners.

There was no chance they’d have wardens like the ones at Kripel.

“And honestly, it makes sense that the defenses are weak.”

—Makes sense?

When Raven asked that, I grinned proudly and answered.

“I already ravaged the entire continent 200 years ago. You think I’d leave my weaknesses behind in the Order?”

—…Hah, fair enough.

Holy power was the natural enemy of a necromancer’s demonic energy.

The moment I started the war, the Order became my highest-priority target for extermination.

Though, admittedly, wiping them out first had originally been a highly emotional decision.

—I sometimes forget that you really were Archimond.

“Can souls get dementia too? Take care of yourself.”

—Isn’t maintaining my spirit body your responsibility?

…And while we continued that pointless conversation—

—So, what do you plan to do now?

At Raven’s question, I crossed my arms as well.

The trial was four days away.

If I went outside, getting caught was inevitable, and preparations for the trial had already been left to fate.

Normally, the best option would’ve been to quietly wait.

“Originally, I was planning to just sleep my way through until the trial.”

My gaze stopped at one corner as I spoke.

“But something unexpected came up.”

A dark, ancient solitary cell.

Someone was there.

Step. Step.

A dark silhouette approached.

A soul faded by the passage of ages, yet one whose will still remained.

“They say chanting sutras is better than doing nothing. Didn’t think I’d literally see that happen.”

My eyes gleamed as I looked at the hazy form of the dead.

‘A soul that’s been lingering for at least fifty years. And yet its will still remains…’

The grand cathedral was practically a convergence point of holy power.

Even I, a necromancer, could barely maintain Raven alone in a place like this.

A will powerful enough to endure in such a place for so long.

That soul had the potential to become a Death Knight.

‘Well, assuming it agrees to a contract.’

Offer a choice, but never force it.

That was the basic creed of necromancers—one that few still remained to uphold.

—To the forgotten dead, I speak. If you desire it, accept the contract.

The spell circle drawn on the floor glowed as the contract formation took shape.

—The guide’s name is Klein Leinrant.

The pitch-black soul, sustained only by resentment, seemed to finally recognize my existence and examined the contract carefully.

—If you accept the contract, I shall recover your memories and lingering regrets. If you refuse, you shall return to the cycle and find peace.

The moment the contract was formed, the necromancer connected with the soul.

—I have something I must say.

As though speaking for the first time in ages, the dead man’s words were short.

—I’ve forgotten who I must say it to, and even what I must say.

A being eroded away by holy power.

One who had forgotten even his own name, and the nature of the grudge he carried.

—But if I do not say it, I cannot find peace.

All that remained was the sense of duty that something had to be done.

—Inheriting the lingering will of the dead, I declare this here and now.

The pitch-black shadow’s hand touched the center of the contract.

—From this moment onward, your lingering will is my lingering will.

Runes settled into the core of the nameless soul, and the body that had been nothing but a shadow began taking on a concrete form.

Clank. Clank.

A Death Knight appeared alongside the sound of armor.

The wing insignia engraved at the center of his breastplate was something even I had never seen before.

—Will this really be alright?

“What do you mean?”

I had opened the prison door, but I still couldn’t leave.

Sitting atop the desk meant for the wardens, I listened to Raven’s question.

—It hasn’t even been that long since you contracted with the souls in the reformatory, yet you’ve already created another Death Knight.

“What, are you worried about me now?”

Saying that, I waved my hand dismissively as if telling him to drop it.

“I am pushing myself, but it’s not like I’m doing it recklessly.”

I looked down at my hands, which still hadn’t stopped trembling.

‘As expected. My body isn’t keeping up with the growth of my demonic energy.’

A body that exhausted itself faster and faster, in contrast to the demonic energy overflowing from my heart.

That was also why I kept collapsing every time I used necromancy.

‘Unlike mana or holy power, which originate from life force, demonic energy originates from death.’

I reflected on the nature of those opposing powers.

‘If this weren’t Leinrant’s body, I would’ve died the moment I picked up the Obsidian Ring.’

The three artifacts obtained from the outskirts of the Ice Castle.

Raven, the Crystal Sword, and the Obsidian Ring.

I could now completely handle the first two, but I still needed time before I could properly wield the last one.

There was only one way to shorten that time.

Just use demonic energy like fucking crazy until the body adapted to it.

‘Even keeping this guy summoned inside the grand cathedral is part of that training.’

Thinking that, I was about to lean my exhausted body back into the chair when—

Clank—!

With the harsh screech of metal, the thick entrance to the underground prison swung open.

“What? Who is it?”

An unexpected situation.

The underground prison I was locked in was supposed to be off-limits.

“Raven.”

—I know.

Maintaining tense vigilance, I positioned Raven in front with his sword drawn.

The other side didn’t know I existed.

If we struck by surprise, there was a chance.

Thinking that, I cautiously watched the intruder entering through the doorway.

“Huh.”

Judging by the voice, female.

From her build and footsteps, she seemed around my age, but the aura she carried was sharply honed.

—Klein. What that girl is carrying is…

Raven trailed off with a grim expression.

I also stared at it warily.

‘I can’t identify it from here. What is that? Some new kind of weapon?’

Something rectangular and puffed up.

It was impossible to think of it as a weapon.

‘Is it similar to what Palliman used? But I can’t sense anything from it…’

If I didn’t know what the weapon was, I couldn’t determine the enemy’s tactics.

‘First Raven covers the front, then I ambush her while—!’

As I prepared to spring out at any moment—

“Brother over there, did you ditch work and come hide out too?”

“…Hide out, what?”

A languidly beautiful voice.

I erased every combat plan from my mind and asked back with a dumbfounded expression.

“This used to be my secret sweet spot, but now I’ve got a comrade.”

The intruder said that and walked straight toward the corner of the underground prison.

“…Hey, Raven.”

—Speak.

I asked Raven, who was frozen in the exact same combat-ready posture as me.

Not because I was curious, but because I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

“That thing she’s carrying. Is it a weapon?”

At my question, Raven lowered his head in self-loathing and answered.

—It’s a pillow.

…No, wait a second.

The more I think about it, the more pissed off I get.

What?

A pillow?

“Hwaaahm~!”

The situation was so absurd that words failed me.

As I stood there speechless in disbelief, the woman dressed in a nun’s habit rubbed her sleepy eyes, let out a long yawn, and flopped down in the corner of the prison.

“If the Mother Superior comes by, please tell her I’m not here.”

The moment I heard that voice, I became certain.

‘Wow. She’s the real deal.’

That wasn’t the hypocrisy of some schemer plotting behind the scenes.

That nun had genuinely come here to skip work and take a nap.

“I’ll buy you dinner later…”

The mysterious nun didn’t even finish her sentence before—

“Khooo…”

Still hugging the pillow she’d brought with her, she drifted straight into dreamland.

What the hell?

No, seriously. What is this supposed to be?

A trap set by the Holy Kingdom?

—Hey, Klein.

Thinking it might be some trick to cloud my judgment, I even had Raven confirm it.

—This nun’s actually sleeping.

She really was sleeping.

Inside the underground prison.

After asking a criminal awaiting trial to keep watch for her.

And now she was snoring away in the corner of the prison!

“Hey, wait a second. Ah, fuck, my head hurts…”

So I’d been going through all this suffering to get revenge on idiots like these?

It felt like a headache worse than the one I got while making contracts.

—They really come in all kinds.

While I was standing there in disbelief, Raven checked the sleeping nun once more before lowering his sword with a hollow expression.

“She really is sleeping, right?”

I asked again in utter disbelief.

Raven covered his face with one hand, looking even more incredulous than I was.

—No matter how complacent the Holy Order has become…

Sharing the same miserable feeling, I could only cover my face as well.

“They’ve let themselves go way too far…”