EP.61 – A Knight Fears People More Than Ghosts (2)
Ghost-type monsters.
To put it more plainly, a ghost monster materialized far enough for human eyes to see was already a being well known to the academic world. Known, of course, did not mean easy to meet. Ghosts alone strained belief, and a ghost that had taken on substance... Didn't that, all by itself, strike one as vanishingly rare?
Rarity, however, never made an encounter with a ghost-type monster fortunate. They were ghosts, after all — vengeful spirits. For a being that ought never to enter human sight to be caught in one's vision was proof, in itself, that it nursed a powerful grudge or hatred, and a monster balled tight with resentment like that could only wield considerable power.
Worse, true to a ghost, even physical attacks failed to land. They were known as monsters one could not possibly handle without Holy Power or magic, so meeting a ghost — no, a Wraith — was as good as proof that one's luck was wretched enough to be struck by lightning. Sword and spear, bow and shield, every symbol of a knight: not one of them worked.
...And yet.
Thud!
"Where do you get off staring me dead in the eye? Squatting in a building that isn't yours."
Crack!
"If you've got something to say, say it straight, you bastards!"
How was something like that even possible?
Simon could only stare, baffled, at the knight pounding a danger-grade monster — a wraith — with nothing but a left jab.
What?
You can actually hit that thing?
On the off chance his hand might catch, he gave a cautious poke to the wraith, which stood shuddering where the knight had struck it.
Shhhk—
"...I can't?"
His hand passed through as if he had reached into steam, and Simon understood that the common knowledge of the academies was not wrong after all. Which meant that what he had just seen was simply...
Is that man actually a Monk?
Guardian spirits of the light, also called holy warriors. Among such guardians, it was said, a few hid their original station and piled up ascetic training in secret. Might that man be one of those monks?
Hah. It's... possible!
Simon bobbed his head, well satisfied that the inference was sound enough, and Lee Han, feeling the weight of that stare, decided to clear the misunderstanding before it set.
"I can roughly guess what you're thinking.... First of all, that's not it."
Lee Han had not hit the wraith by any special means. Simply put—
I'm only hitting the place that can be hit.
The world liked to speak of the ghost-type monster called a wraith as if it were invincible, but that was common knowledge that had spread wrong. Any knight who believed it was either a greenhorn short on real fights, or a third-rate fool with his head on backward.
Sure. Physical attacks don't work, so the misunderstanding is easy enough to come by.
But still.
Fight one yourself, and you learn the thing isn't a real ghost.
In the end this floating body was nothing more than one kind of monster, and a wraith was a monster materialized clearly enough to be seen even by ordinary eyes. What did it mean, to be materialized? It meant the creature exerted physical force upon the world — and, conversely, that a human could exert physical force upon the wraith.
Only—
The trouble is how hard it is to catch the moment when that force will land.
Whoosh!
The wraith came flying in again and, for an instant, swelled its momentum. It meant to avenge the comrades Lee Han had already struck, and for that instant its presence sharpened.
"Begging to be hit."
Huff!
Lee Han threw his fist in the exact breath before the thing could attack him. A counter. His fist arrived a beat ahead of the wraith's strike and smashed cleanly into the space between its eyes.
Thwack!
With a sound like a melon splitting, the wraith went straight down. It must have been hit clean, to faint on the spot like that.
"See? Simple to deal with, right? It tried to use physical force on me and got a physical education instead. From now on, you put them down like this."
"......"
"What?"
"In what world is that easy?"
"Hm?"
"...I'm going to lose my mind."
Simon could feel his blood pressure climbing.
The wraiths that had burst suddenly from inside the building were put down with absurd ease. There had been exactly thirty-six of them, and every last one collapsed as if to prove that all were equal before a physical education.
"Killing them..."
"Kill things that are already dead? That's an evil thought even a demon would fold on."
"...That isn't what I meant..."
"I'm joking."
"......"
Amusing as it was, knocking a wraith out or subduing one was possible, but erasing one was another matter entirely. In the South, some people regarded wraiths as a kind of dead ancestor, however vanishingly small the chance of that might be. But wasn't the human heart like that? The longing to believe one's ancestors still watched over you, even after death, belonged to everyone. So whatever other continents might do, in the South a wraith was not destroyed. It was given a spirit-sending — a custom that was not quite a custom.
If it were an evil spirit that harmed people, that would be a different story.
Even so, getting rid of a ghost-type monster like a wraith demanded a troublesome process. A temple, at the least. Failing that, a shaman. And after that, least trustworthy of all, something like an alchemist's help.
......However.
Could Intent do it too?
Lee Han had a feeling that the moment he set Intent into his fist, these things would burst like balloons. No — closer to certainty than a mere hunch. They would only be more trouble if they woke, and he was just about to try it while they were still down when—
"Santa, what are you doing?"
"My lady?"
The child who had once worn rags, and clothes barely worth the name, now stood smiling brightly in a dress heavy with frills suited to her age and station. Louise looked a little damp with sweat, as if she had been out walking with the maids, and the maids who had been running after her went pale the instant they saw Lee Han.
"S-Santa..."
"W-we're sorry. We were playing tag with the young lady, and then we just..."
"W-we've committed a crime worthy of death!"
"......"
The moment they saw his face they shook as if they had met a reaper, and Lee Han felt distinctly awkward. That day, when he had meant only to straighten out the manor's discipline, he had played at molding people like clay a little too thoroughly. Watching it seemed to have settled into a considerable case of PTSD.
Did I go too far?
He did not regret what he had done that day, but he felt a small prick of guilt, wondering if the lesson in discipline had been excessive. And then—
"Whoa, this feels weird. Like a blanket made of ice. Hmm? But why is it soft?"
"My lady?"
"Yeah?"
"How are you touching that?"
"...D-did I do something wrong?"
"No. It isn't that..."
"Hehe. Good."
"...Even so, please stop touching it. It's dirty. Dirty."
"Okay!"
As expected. Our youngest lady of the march. A good child who listened better than any adult who was an adult only in the pattern — better even than Geumjjoki. Lee Han patted her back and told her she had done well, and Louise laughed, bright and clear.
"......"
"Santa?"
"...Mm."
"?"
But Lee Han's face was complicated. He was probably not the only one finding it so.
"Ah, I can't touch it?"
Simon was at his useless fumbling again, and Lee Han let out an empty laugh at the child beaming up at him. A girl who was supposed to have no ability at all, touching a ghost?
"A dog in the street wouldn't believe it."
Today of all days, his head would not stay still. How many incidents had already come, one after another.
"Is today some kind of special day?"
"You're telling me. I was already busy enough to die, and now this ruckus..."
The wraiths discovered in broad daylight had not appeared only at the lord's castle. They kept turning up all over the territory, with no regard for time or place. It was a thoroughly bewildering mess, and sorting it out meant sweating in earnest. The one mercy was that the wraiths had not touched the civilians. Only—
"They only attack outsiders."
Several members of the Guild Union had light fractures or strained ligaments. The injuries were not severe, but the disruption to the work was the problem. Simon did not let the situation excite him. He thought for a moment.
"...This is only a guess, but these wraiths may have been tamed by Mordred's Mystery. The sort that attack when an outsider arrives..."
"By that logic, shouldn't they have come at me the moment I showed myself?"
"That..."
He had offered a hypothesis, but it carried little weight and was set aside. Simon frowned, his face complicated. He seemed just as stifled by what was happening. The guild had already wanted the work to move quickly, and the sudden appearance of the wraiths, and the delays that followed, could only be unpleasant and frustrating in every direction.
"I told you. The more you rush, the longer way around you should take. You too — no. If you're the head of an organization, you keep your composure. You can't go showing a face like that to the people who follow you."
"......"
"Well. You already know that without me saying it."
"...Thank you. That snaps my head clear."
It was polite, weighty advice, the kind that made Simon feel the place he stood in, and he bowed with equal courtesy, a tremor in his chest. If theirs had been nothing but a cold arrangement of using each other, Lee Han would never have said a thing like that. That he had was proof he trusted Simon's ability. Simon resolved to pull himself together again.
"First, we should start by questioning the people born to this land. They may know something."
"Anything I can help with?"
"...Let me meet the servants who worked in the castle. The head maid, especially. The longer they've served, the more they'll know."
"Hmm."
"Don't worry. They can't compare to Santa Rihan. But the guild has plenty of 'technicians' of its own."
"Fine. I said I'd help, so I'll help properly."
"I won't disappoint you."
"Hey. Partners don't talk like that."
"...If I were a woman, that line would have made me fall for you."
"For fuck's sake..."
Lee Han genuinely shuddered, and Simon bowed once more before hurrying off to find the work that needed doing. To someone he might look frail, but there was something trustworthy in the straightness of that retreating back.
"...Yeah. That's about what it takes to be Hao Sect Leader."
Only now did the man look the part, and Lee Han felt a private flicker of pride — then wiped the smile from his mouth as if it had never been there, and his face turned serious. With good reason.
"Did you find it?"
"Yeah. We found it."
"...It was hard."
They had finally gotten their hands on the important clue.
"Sorry for working you so hard. Later, as a reward, I'll give you whatever you want."
"Then wine!"
"It looked delicious!"
"Hss! Brats still wet behind the ears, and you think you can—!"
"......Old fogey."
"That's mean..."
The twins pulled tearful faces, and Lee Han clicked his tongue.
Kids these days....