🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 14
Since that day
Zeke and Milo, the two of them, had been assigned as soldiers in the Palaon territory.
“Please take care of us.”
“Hmph.”
Ugh, such rude…
At least Zeke was polite, but Milo maintained an arrogant attitude even toward the soldiers.
[Of course. If they’re men-at-arms, it makes sense they have high pride.]
For reference, a man-at-arms isn’t a knight, but a soldier armed and fighting like a knight—essentially medium cavalry.
The two were slightly under-equipped to be considered full men-at-arms, but perhaps they had disposed of some gear when leaving the mercenary group.
Meanwhile, it was a bit worrisome.
Would the fragile(?) soldiers of our territory be able to treat them as juniors and hold their ground?
…Of course, that worry was unfounded.
“Do not worry, my lord. Even if they seem like that, the soldiers of our territory are veterans who have seen every hardship.”
As Sir Balt said, the two… especially Milo, began to look increasingly gloomy day by day.
It seemed some very sinister and cruel initiation was underway.
[Indeed, even our territory’s soldiers are no ordinary troops.]
That’s true.
Somehow, it felt satisfying.
But fearing they might run away, I secretly slipped candy to Zeke and Milo.
“My lord…!”
“Ah, ugh!”
“Hang in there just a bit longer.”
It was an encouragement, somehow reminiscent of my own early days as a low-ranking soldier.
“Yes! I will!”
“My lord, I pledge my loyalty!”
Loyalty aside, I just hoped they would endure as long as possible.
Opportunities to use capable personnel at a bargain were rare.
Anyway.
I attended the mining development meetings in the mornings and evenings, and spent the rest of the time practicing necromancy and physical training.
And as a result…
Shshsh!
[Hmm, you’re becoming quite skilled now.]
“Yes, indeed.”
I was able to cast Bone Armor fairly quickly.
It was faster and stronger when combined with Golgoli, but even without him, it was usable in real combat.
Speaking of Golgoli…
Clack! Click!
Now even Golgoli looked proper when wielding the greatsword.
Until recently, it was hard to tell whether it was the greatsword or Golgoli swinging it, but now Golgoli had clearly taken the lead.
Good job, Golgoli.
Life was proceeding smoothly like this, but I still had some concerns.
“Necromancy is supposed to be a one-person army… so why aren’t my summons increasing?”
[Honestly, Golgoli alone is already more than enough for you.]
No, you devil!
Well, honestly, as things stood, it didn’t matter.
But I knew…
“Mining development… this is a cliché.”
It was quiet for now, but once word about the veins spread, all sorts of opportunists would swarm.
Then monsters like Vilheim, Sir Balt, Zeke, or Milo wouldn’t be enough to protect the territory.
After all, wars are fought by armies.
So what should I do?
“Wouldn’t it be good to become a one-person army as soon as possible?”
I didn’t even hope for a full army.
Just about thirty skeletons like Golgoli would be enough.
[Dreaming big, huh? Thirty skeletons like Golgoli.]
“That’s just the idea.”
[Hmm. Well, it’s not impossible.]
“Really? What is it?”
[A classic method. Raising skeletons from graves… something like that.]
“That’s a bit…”
Even if my talent was necromancy, I wasn’t keen on raising the dead without permission.
[If you dislike mediated summons, what can you do? Work hard, and increase the number of non-mediated summons by developing your abilities.]
“Hmm, is there really no other way?”
[Nothing comes for free.]
I suppose that’s fair.
Honestly, I might be asking too much.
Having memorized On Death and understood its contents to some extent, I could objectively gauge my level.
At my current level…
“It feels like skipping the first job advancement and using second-job skills.”
Even summoning a non-mediated undead like Golgoli as a rookie necromancer was ridiculous.
But I couldn’t help but feel disappointed.
“Ugh, what to do…”
While I pondered, a visitor arrived.
It was Vilheim.
Vilheim came straight in, said one thing, and left.
“Prepare lightly. We have somewhere to go.”
Hmm.
Does he think I’m the type to come or go just because he says so?
Well, I would see.
“Yes, hehe.”
Without a word, I ran to my room and got ready.
But what could Vilheim want with me?
I went out to the castle gate, puzzled, and found Vilheim waiting with two horses.
“Where are we going?”
“To fetch a friend.”
“A friend?”
He nodded at my question.
“A mage friend.”
Ah, I remembered.
He had mentioned a mage friend who helped me acquire my necromancy book, On Death.
I was supposed to meet separately from my father, and today seemed to be that day.
But I was still curious.
“What kind of person could it be?”
I couldn’t imagine Vilheim having a violent friend, and I hoped that wasn’t the case.
Without talking, we rode on.
After some time, Vilheim spoke.
“Necromancy…”
“Pardon?”
“Is it going well?”
“Yes, thanks to you.”
“Thanks to me… hmm, I see it hasn’t been useless.”
“Um… yes.”
Honestly, I hadn’t achieved anything through On Death, but at least I could make a contract with my ancestor, so I considered that thanks enough.
After that brief exchange, we returned to peaceful silence…
“Golgoli…”
“Pardon?”
“Lately, it seems he’s wielding the greatsword. Using our family’s swordsmanship as well.”
“Ah, that…”
“Good job.”
“…Ah, yes.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant by “good job,” so I answered vaguely.
But now, I thought, he probably had nothing more to say…
“But, is it an elder of the family?”
“Pardon?”
“Golgoli. Only my father and I can teach him our family swordsmanship, but your father said he wouldn’t.”
Could he really think I was planning to use an undead ancestor as Golgoli?
What does he take me for?
As I hesitated, Vilheim said:
“Don’t tell your father.”
“Pardon?”
“Even for you, if your father found out you revived an ancestor and called him Golgoli, it would be a huge shock.”
“No, it’s not that…”
“It’s fine. Your ancestor will be pleased. It helps their descendants, so they’ll surely be happy.”
I felt he was seriously misunderstanding something, but I gave up correcting him.
Better safe than sorry.
But…
“Will they really be happy?”
I didn’t ask Vilheim. I asked my ancestor directly.
But the ancestor replied:
[Don’t be ridiculous. If you dare raise my bones, I’ll annihilate three generations. If it weren’t for the revival of Palaon… tsk.]
Truly a chilling lineage.
“The descendants praise even if they use the ancestor’s remains… the ancestor threatens to destroy three generations.”
Come to think of it, my father turned my grandfather into an incompetent debtor “for the good of the family.”
Perhaps we truly have a bloodline of impiety.
Hopefully not.
Anyway.
After traveling in silence for some time…
“We’re here.”
“Oh, yes.”
Vilheim stopped in front of a small hut beside a narrow path.
He tied the horses and knocked on the door.
“It’s me.”
“Who’s there?”
“Vilheim.”
“Vilheim? Vil… ah, yes. Vil, you’re here.”
The door burst open, and a man appeared.
I pinched my nose.
“What’s that smell…”
The man smelled as if he had bathed in alcohol, yet smiled broadly.
“What brings you today? And who’s this… a necromancer? Looks young. Did you bring them along?”
“This is my sibling.”
“My sibling…? This?”
This guy…?
The drunk man poked and squished my face as if kneading dough, staring at me for a long moment.
Then his eyes suddenly sparkled oddly.
“Vilheim.”
“What is it?”
“Why so young? Did you drink a rejuvenation potion or something?”
“That’s my sibling.”
“Hmm… indeed, that’s true. Yes, indeed.”
This guy… what the hell.
[A madman, for sure.]
Agreed.
Fortunately, I wasn’t the only one reaching the limits of patience.
“Ren, I’ll count to three. Pull yourself together by then.”
“Three? Just count to three? Three…”
“Two, one.”
Vilheim stepped forward, spun the drunk around, and punched him squarely in the chest.
Bam!
“Ugh…!”
The sounds of blows echoed through the bushes after that.
An hour later, I finally properly met the mage Bioren, commonly called “Ren.”
“Sibling? Sorry for the rudeness on first meeting. This doesn’t happen often.”
“It’s fine.”
Sobered up, Ren was quite handsome.
Yet, there was something unlikable about him… beyond the good looks, his aura screamed typical “suspicious character.”
I decided to classify Ren as a potential schemer.
Anyway.
“Come in and sit. Vilheim, you too. Want something to drink?”
“I’m fine.”
“Me too.”
“Hmm, then I’ll drink alone.”
Ren disappeared briefly and returned holding a cup.
It smelled strongly of honey tea.
Just smelling it made me feel like diabetes might strike, yet Ren drank it and smiled.
“Feels a bit better. So, you came because there’s a meeting with the baron?”
“Yes, and…”
“Bringing your sibling means you want… that, right? Seems like the sibling is the main point to me.”
“Exactly.”
Vilheim replied calmly, and Ren looked at me.
“So, sibling, are you ready?”
“Pardon? Ready for what?”
“Hmm…? Haven’t heard anything?”
“No.”
I had heard nothing; I just followed them here.
“Unusual. A junior following the elder without asking a thing.”
“Stop talking nonsense.”
I had resigned myself. If Vilheim wanted to take me, he’d do it anyway.
But…
“…smiling?”
Why is Vilheim laughing now?
Never mind, that’s not important.
“Can you explain what’s going on?”
“Well… I can tell you, but it’s better to see directly. Wait a moment, okay?”
“Yes.”
Ren left briefly and returned with a box.
What could that be?
He handed it to me.
“Open it.”
“Ah, yes.”
The box was fairly heavy. Inside…
A skeleton?
Yes, a skeleton was inside.
But not just any skeleton.
[Waaaaaaah!]
A screaming skeleton.
“What the hell…”
Blinking at Ren, he smiled.
“Say hello. You’ll be their potential teacher, sibling.”
What on earth…
