Reunion (3)
A living corpse, huh.
For the first time, I hesitated to answer. Seeing that, the old man finally wore a look of smug confidence.
"Heh heh. Well? Starting to sound a little more tempting, isn't it?"
Truth be told, I didn't know all that much about necromancers. In five years of playing the Hero, I'd barely had any chance to run into the ones who operated in the underworld. Even in the original story, it was mentioned as a setting detail and nothing more — there was never an episode where a necromancer actually took the stage. So of course my interest was piqued. Raising the dead. That was a domain even the Saintess herself couldn't touch.
"So what exactly are you bringing back? Ghouls, or something?"
I asked, thinking of zombies. They weren't the same thing, but in a world without zombies, ghouls were about as close as it got. The old man just shook his head and laughed.
"Ha! Nowhere near that crude. Rotting skin, can't even speak properly, no consciousness left — nothing but instinct in a shell that happens to still be moving. That's a ghoul for you."
"Then what's different about yours?"
"Exactly what I said. A living corpse. A body that can talk properly, skin that hasn't rotted. And most importantly — you can inject a soul into that corpse and bring it back to life."
"Hmm. That so?"
"Damn right. Ghouls are demonkin created by vampires in the first place. What I make is on a whole different level."
He said it proudly and slurped his coffee. Depending on who was listening, it was the kind of pitch that could hook someone hard. It was, after all, a complete defiance of the natural order. But something that extreme was bound to come with risks.
"Anything else I should know? Side effects, that kind of thing."
"Well, nothing much for the caster. But the moment you inject a soul into a corpse and bind it, that corpse has to obey its master's every command without question. Can't attack its master, either, of course."
"Ha..."
The conditions were far more vicious than I'd expected. And the risk didn't even fall on our side — it fell entirely on theirs. Not only could you force the dead back to life, you could turn them into slaves. Raising someone without their consent and chaining them like that... there was hardly a greater desecration of the deceased. No wonder adventurers went pale the second they heard the word necromancer. I wouldn't turn my back on a guy like this either.
"That everything?"
"More or less. Oh — and they smell a bit. That about covers it."
I see. Hearing that much, I could understand why the old man was so full of himself. Anyone who'd lost family, a lover, a friend — someone they loved — would cling to those words the second they heard them. Hell, I might have done the same, if I'd been in that position.
Unfortunately, I didn't have anyone like that anymore. No one I wanted to bring back. No one I even loved.
I drained my cup and turned down his offer.
"I heard you out. But you'll have to peddle that somewhere else."
"Th-that so? Shame."
The old man smacked his lips, looking like he genuinely hadn't seen that coming. He'd been that sure I'd take the deal. But the real reason I'd invited him into my house was something else entirely.
I poured fresh coffee into my empty cup and steered us toward the point.
"By the way — funny thing. Never thought I'd run into you again out here."
At my sudden remark, the old man blinked, then answered with a laugh.
"Hm? Haha, right you are. What are the odds of a coincidence like this?"
"...Coincidence. A coincidence, huh."
I murmured it with a smile curling at the corner of my mouth. Coincidence. Fate. Destiny. Such lovely words.
Except —
"Haha. And you expect me to buy that?"
Sometimes a con gets dressed up as a miracle. Maybe just like right now.
Hearing my sneer, the old man's eyes went round.
"H-hey now. What's gotten into you all of a sudden?!"
"So what you're saying is, the fact that we're sitting here face-to-face drinking coffee is nothing but pure chance."
"......"
"Isn't that right?"
On this vast continent, among all those countless countries and cities, he'd come to the exact place I happened to be. And he was the only person left in this world who knew my real identity. I was neither stupid nor generous enough to let that slide with a single word like coincidence.
"...So that's how you see it."
The smile had already left the old man's face. Whether he'd caught the intent behind my words or not, his gaze flicked toward the door. But the latch was already locked, and my hand was already on my sword.
Tap. Tap.
The sound of my fingers drumming on the scabbard pinned his feet in place. I looked at him with a dry smile.
"I'm a suspicious guy. You'll understand, right?"
"Are you threatening me? Or do you actually mean to kill me?"
"Both. So you'd better answer carefully, old man. You told me yourself, didn't you? That you wanted to live out your natural lifespan."
I rested my chin on my hand and gave him the warning. I didn't bother with the crude theatrics of putting a blade to his throat. At this distance, there wasn't a soul who could stop my sword anyway. The Demon King, maybe, at a stretch.
The old man took a moment to steady his breathing, then spoke with care.
"Hmm. I did mention it before, didn't I. That the Empire was rotting from the inside, and I ought to get out while I could."
"You did."
"And once I left the Empire, this was really the only place left worth going."
"There's the Republic."
"You want an old man to walk into a country currently at war with the demonkin?"
Well. Fair enough. Business would be booming there, sure — but a man who claimed he wanted to die of old age wasn't about to gamble his life on a battlefield. Setting the Empire and the Republic aside, the Kingdom really was the smartest option. And this city in particular was famous as a resort town, so there was nothing strange about him ending up here.
I just needed to be sure. Getting stabbed in the back a second time was not on my agenda.
"Well... nothing wrong with what you said, I guess. Sorry for doubting you, old man."
I set the sword down on the floor. Only then did the old man let out the breath he'd been holding.
"Hoo. So you're not going to kill me?"
"I feel like I've heard that one before. Do you look at me and see some bloodthirsty murderer instead of a Hero?"
Was that how people saw me? Swing a sword enough times and they assume you'll swing it at anything. Sorry, but I didn't have a hobby of cutting people down on suspicion alone. If I did, I'd already be rotting in a cell or living on the run. And more to the point — if I carved someone up in a place like this, who exactly was supposed to clean up afterward? Never mind wiping the blood. Burying a corpse in the backyard of the house I planned to live in for the rest of my life was a hard pass.
"Still. Don't try anything shady. I'm choosing not to cut you — that doesn't mean I can't. And don't even think about telling anyone else who I am."
"Haha. Don't you worry. I've lived this long on nothing but my reputation."
"Good. Let's keep it that way."
And don't go stabbing me in the back later like those bitches did.
Anyway, I felt a little bad about the threats, so I promised that if I ever ran into someone who needed a corpse, I'd send them his way. We shared one more cup of coffee, then stood.
"Well then. I'll be on my way."
"Yeah. Take care."
"Ah! And if you ever find yourself in need of a corpse, be sure to come find me."
"Is that really something you say to a person...?"
His sense of ethics was completely demolished. Hands down the worst goodbye I'd ever heard. Did long years as a necromancer do that to a man, or did people like him become necromancers in the first place?
Either way, I had no desire to keep dealing with him, so I shut the door quickly.
Thud.
Only after sending the old man off did I finally sink into the sofa and relax.
"Hoo. Thanks to him, the buzz is completely gone."
Come to think of it — a living corpse, he'd said. When I heard those words, it wasn't as if no one came to mind. I'd read it in the newspaper not long ago. The Demon King Subjugation Force had not only lost a battle against the Demon King's army, they'd taken massive casualties. Nothing official had been announced yet, but for all I knew, one of those bastards might already be dead.
Not that I'd thought of them because I wanted them brought back. The word corpse just happened to remind me of the ones who'd turned Hero Kyle into a corpse and driven me here in the first place.
"Well. I've gotten used to this life by now."
No — more than used to it. It was better than before. Ever since coming to this city, every day had been peaceful. Back in my Hero days, it was nothing but blood-soaked war and camping on the front lines, day after day. Even my downtime went to training. I'd never had a hobby, never even gotten a proper night's sleep.
Not anymore. I had hobbies now. I could sleep more than eight hours a night. I even had the luxury of sipping coffee out on the terrace. I woke to a soft bed and warm sunlight, with the peaceful laughter of children tickling my ears. I'd learned how beautiful the streets could be, and how many different delicious foods this world had to offer.
All things I'd never known as a Hero. Happiness I could never have felt while I was with those people.
Which is why I believed it. In that situation, Hero Kyle taking his own life hadn't been the wrong choice at all.
"Alright. One more cup, then bed."
Thud! Thud-thud!
"Hm?"
Someone was knocking on my door. Strange. It was well past the hour for visitors. Had the old man come back refusing to take no for an answer? Or was it a blackout-drunk Clara?
Either way, I wasn't exactly thrilled. Maybe I should just pretend to be asleep.
Thud. Thud-thud. Thud. Thud-thud-thud. Thud-thud!
But the unexpected guest wouldn't give up. The longer it went on, the harder they knocked — and somehow it even had a rhythm to it. In the end I set down my cup and opened the door.
Creeeak.
With the groan of old hinges, a stranger appeared through the gap.
"...Ha."
But it wasn't a drunk Clara standing there, and it wasn't the old man peddling corpses either.
Disheveled blonde hair. Saintess robes filthy with grime and dust. And a girl looking up at me with unfocused blue eyes, smiling brightly as she asked —
"Ehehe. Got any medicine here?"