🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter : 70
The Undead Race
The dead.
Souls defiled within the domain of black magic.
The dead set foot upon the land.
Damn it all—this land lay on part of the boundary between humans and monsters.
That was also why Poputa swarmed with monsters.
—Crack—
The ground split open, and skeletal, fleshless arms braced themselves against the earth.
“…Are they crawling up?”
Charlov let out a shallow sigh. It sounded like fingernails scraping dirt.
She had heard of this before.
Crunch. Crack.
Where goblins had died and graves had piled up, blood had pooled.
The blood-soaked ground mixed with soil, turning into mud.
From there, gaunt bones clattered and clawed their way out.
“Just a little…”
She had hoped it would be different from what she expected.
“What is that?”
Even the imperial guards were seeing this for the first time.
They had seen monsters break through the ground before—but not this.
“Aren’t those the dead summoned by black magic?!”
“Why are the dead walking this land?!”
It sounded like whispering.
She couldn’t hear clearly, but it felt as though they were exchanging words among themselves, like hallucinated murmurs.
“If you don’t want to die, get a grip on yourself.”
Benjamin drew his sword and cleaved a skeleton’s skull apart.
“If you lose focus, they’ll drag you down in an instant.”
“……”
“Didn’t you hear what I said?”
Benjamin grabbed Charlov’s arm and pulled her.
“Don’t lose your soul.”
“They’re gathering.”
“They say seeing undead means ill fortune. Be careful.”
Bones collapsed, then reassembled again and again.
“Did the pact break?”
“It feels like a rift has opened.”
“Don’t let them bite you. Even if it doesn’t kill you, it’ll harm you badly.”
The bones gathered near an old woman.
They say they gather around those close to death.
A bony joint brushed against the old woman’s body.
A chilling cold swept down the spine. Benjamin slashed the creature’s wrist and hoisted the old woman onto his shoulder.
“Wounded, fall back.”
An injured mercenary returned, took the old woman, and retreated to the rear.
In the empty clearing, a gravestone rose.
The old gravestone bore an epitaph written in an ancient language.
“A gravestone.”
Pedlin had been leading the mercenaries, assigned to support the subjugation front.
“Damn it! It’s an undead grave!”
Subjugation fronts with gravestones usually meant undead graves.
Charlov read the epitaph.
“Ware, Wolf.”
“Pardon?”
“It says this is the grave of a Black Werewolf pack.”
That was what was written on the stone.
“You can read gravestones?”
“It just turned out that way.”
Charlov touched the gravestone and sighed softly. Her dark crimson hair spilled along her collarbone. Pushing aside her shawl, she swept her hair over one shoulder and felt a faint disturbance.
The ground trembled beneath her feet.
Thud. Thud.
They were drawing closer.
“A Black Werewolf pack means…”
“Those who twist wanderers’ paths and make them stand before their graves.”
An undead grave—
Monsters that had died and become bones.
“Step away from the gravestone!”
Soon—
A monster signal flare exploded.
“A monster signal flare!”
“Monsters!”
Boom!
Harbor stall vendors looked up at the sky.
A red flare streaked downward.
A monster signal flare meant: there are monsters here—so unless you want to fill their bellies, stay away from this area.
At the outer subjugation front, branches were woven together like a nest in the trees. Spiderwebs, leaves, and reeds tangled together.
“It sounds like a funeral wail.”
Some vendors shuddered and rubbed their shoulders.
Charlov clutched her throbbing wrist.
Her grip was torn apart, split open everywhere.
Blood pooled in her palm. Drip—drip. It soaked into the cloth of the sword hilt and ran along the blade.
Her movements were monotonous.
She thrust her sword and disabled them.
The recoil traveled straight back up her arm, stabbing into her.
It hurt.
That pain was forgotten as she slipped into a trance.
What have I been close to all this time?
Only emptiness remained of them.
As if they were telling her how futile their ends were.
“……”
She was bitten.
An undead monster bit Charlov’s ankle.
“Your Majesty!”
She had let the monster get too close.
She stepped back.
It felt like she had forgotten something.
Her breathing felt stifled. What had she forgotten?
All noise faded away.
A droning hum filled her ears.
Pedlin called out to the Empress, then gave up and turned to the Emperor.
“She’s not breathing.”
“…This is madness. Stay here.”
Benjamin hurriedly cleared a path to Charlov.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
He grabbed her shoulders.
“If you’re set on dying, there’s nothing you wouldn’t do.”
“…Ah.”
“I told you—if you lose focus, they’ll drag you down.”
Only then did Charlov gasp.
The breath she had forgotten burst through her suffocating lungs.
“I told you not to get bitten!”
“It was my carelessness.”
“Do you know they’re gathering around you?”
She had felt it was strange for a while now.
The undead race was clustering around Charlov.
“They’re desperately trying to drag you down.”
Benjamin made it clear what he was wary of.
“Don’t let yourself be pulled under.”
Don’t give them an opening.
That was his warning.
The guards fell silent, visibly shaken.
“Does that look like someone who just learned to wield a sword?”
That blade was filled with pent-up resentment.
Shaved away and away, until only melancholy remained.
“It’s raining.”
“Fog is rolling in.”
“Doesn’t everything feel… hazy?”
Soon, the creatures twisted their bodies unnaturally.
Bones collapsed, then locked together again.
“If you endure long enough, you’ll grow numb.”
“……”
“And if you grow numb, the end will come someday.”
Those words were Charlov speaking to herself.
“Don’t sink too deeply into despair.”
It was hard to grasp the meaning.
Benjamin realized this was Charlov’s limit.
Her collapsing core crumbled.
He wrapped an arm around her waist. Charlov leaned weakly against him, her body giving way.
“Aaaah!”
A desperate scream rang out.
It spread thickly through the underground.
A sinner was dragged up from beneath the earth.
“Damn it!”
The sinner brushed off dirt and spat blood.
Pyotr glared at the subjugation force with jaundiced eyes. Benjamin had already sensed his presence.
“I didn’t expect you to crawl out in such a sorry state.”
Now he understood why the intelligence officers had never found him.
The man had drawn closer to the dead.
Benjamin stroked his chin in greeting.
“It’s been a while. You’re a wreck.”
“Ah, the imperial mongrel dog?”
“You’ve changed quite a bit.”
Benjamin murmured softly.
“And it seems you’ve forgotten imperial courtesy as well.”
He pulled Charlov into his arms.
Strength drained from her collapsed body.
“Escort the Empress to the rear.”
His eyes sank low.
The blade cleaved the enemy in a single stroke.
Hesitation held in the hilt only dulled the sword.
“Is it over?”
Benjamin dragged the blade along the ground.
They hadn’t called the young Emperor depraved for nothing.
He crushed the duties of humanity beneath his feet.
The Emperor was cruel enough to disgust even allies.
If a blood-soaked demon existed, it would look like him now.
A sword left with only the purpose of killing held no human duty.
Cruelty gripped the blade and split the enemy.
It wasn’t malice that could be felt.
There was no malice at all.
“Aaagh! Aaaaargh!”
The butcher who had slain monsters seemed to drift ever farther from humanity.
Pyotr writhed in agony.
Even when his body was cut apart, his flesh stitched itself back together.
“Is he unable to die? Or does he simply not die?”
Some guards collapsed to the ground.
Even the mercenary corps, hardened by constant battle, felt their strength drain away.
The Emperor slaughtered as if remembering only one thing: punishment.
As though tearing apart the black magic that defiled order.
“…You mongrel dogs! Damn mongrel dogs, disturbing the path of our kin!”
The undead army collapsed entirely.
“Should we help?”
“Don’t go near.”
The Emperor thrust his blade forward.
Even knowing the imperial family ruled the Empire, it was chilling.
He fought with the guards at his back.
He absorbed black magic with his entire body, clashing with the black magician who disrupted imperial order.
Boom!
The ground seemed ready to collapse at any moment.
Some forgot even how to breathe under the pressure.
“What is that?”
“What kind of fight is that…?”
Nothing remained but the purpose of killing each other.
“Escort the Empress to the rear.”
“Shield her so the poisonous aura doesn’t reach her.”
The guards surrounded her with sword aura, protecting her from the poison.
“I feel like I’m going to vomit from the pressure.”
They swallowed hard.
After the Empress lost consciousness, the Emperor found the sinner hiding underground.
Tracking his presence, the Emperor dragged him above ground—
Then—
He severed the sinner’s arm.
“Aaagh!”
Pyotr clutched his shoulder and screamed.
“Damn it!”
His complexion darkened. Even torn and cut apart, Pyotr bound together a new body from monsters.
Benjamin cut it apart again—slashed and split it with his blade.
Pyotr lost his limbs and crumpled.
“…And he still doesn’t die.”
“I’ll tear you apart! Damn mongrel dogs—our kin will find you, rip you to shreds, and offer you on our altar!”
Even bound with monsters, his body had not fully adapted.
As a blade scraped his neck, Pyotr crushed his lips together.
“Do you know how many you’ve killed? The dead of our kin cling to you, leaving their marks!”
The Emperor was like a murderous demon trailing the scent of blood.
The subjugation force had hunted monsters for years.
Their presence was steeped in the traces of slain monsters.
“Is this body at its limit too?”
The undead army riding beasts collided with the subjugation force.
“You seem near your limit as well—but forcing it won’t do you any good.”
The subjugation force struck with a single decisive blow, body and soul poured into it.
As if knowing that a single opening meant death.
Pyotr withdrew his black magic.
Releasing its remnants, he attacked Charlov.
Boom!
A cloud of dirt exploded into the air.
Benjamin hurled his sword and dispelled the black magic.
“He escaped.”
He was gone.
“Aren’t you afraid he’ll come back?”
“Who knows. I’m not one to see that far ahead.”
That was all Benjamin said.
“The black magic in the area has been dispelled.”
The presence was gone.
He had left.
“The rain is growing heavier. We should descend the mountain.”
A space filled with emptiness.
There, Charlov opened her eyes alone.
Pitch-black darkness.
If she stepped forward, it felt as though a cliff would hurl her to the depths.
There was nothing here.
The void felt like another void placed within a blank.
Emptiness blew in loneliness, leading the solitary Charlov to a dead end.
Is no one here?
Something crunched beneath her foot.
Long and curly—hair, perhaps.
Dark crimson strands dragged beneath her feet.
Was it always this long?
Her ankle throbbed.
She limped from the pain.
Her hands were scraped raw.
Her skin was bruised and mottled, and though she thought she held nothing, a sword hilt was clenched in her hand.
Was I fighting?
She groped through her memories, but couldn’t tell.
She could tell only that the hand holding the sword lacked strength.
Yes.
It feels like I’m trying to end everything now.
Because she couldn’t see herself, she didn’t notice the soles of her feet had been scraped raw and torn open.
