Chapter 251: A Windfall
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 251: A Windfall
To the wild horse, the burning skeleton was an insurmountable threat.
That was why it had sought help.
That help had arrived, and to make matters worse for the burning skeleton, its luck had finally run out.
Fwoosh!
A flaming halberd swung through the air, followed by a pack of skeletal hounds and a line of skeleton soldiers.
There were thirteen in total. Twelve, excluding the flaming skull leading them.
"Wicked and corrupt."
This was the primary reason for their misfortune: they had encountered a religious fanatic—a soldier who flew into a frenzy at the mere sight of the undead.
Fwoosh!
The flaming halberd came sweeping down in a lethal arc. Audin deflected the blade with the palm of his hand. In an instant, the flames leaped onto his flesh. Audin simply whipped his arm through the air.
Whoosh!
The motion produced a sound like a sudden atmospheric burst. The fire clinging to his hand died out instantly, vanishing into thin air. It wasn't a magical counter; it was a feat achieved through sheer physical strength and speed.
Having parried the halberd, Audin began systematically dismantling the skeletons rushing him from behind. With a single punch, a skull shattered into bone fragments and scattered. The head literally exploded into a dozen pieces.
"...What a brainless brute," Rem muttered, though even he looked impressed by the fire-extinguishing trick.
From then on, Audin smashed every skull and cracked every ribcage in his path. He grabbed a skeleton soldier by its spine, ripped it out, and swung the vertebrae like a club to crush a skeletal hound’s head.
The burning skeleton raised its halberd high, aiming for Audin’s exposed back.
Ragna, who had been observing from the sidelines, suddenly stepped forward. With a fluid motion, he drew his sword, twisted his waist, and swung.
It was a textbook Heavy Sword Style draw-and-slash.
Ragna’s blade cleanly severed the skeleton’s neck. The head, sliced at the cervical vertebrae, thudded to the ground. As it fell, the fire wreathed around it flickered and died. Only a charred, blackened skull remained, rolling through the vines and tall grass until it bumped against a jagged rock and came to a halt.
Despite being headless, the burning skeleton continued to flail its limbs wildly.
"Ugh, what a pain."
Rem stepped in, hacking at the creature’s limbs with his axe. He chopped and kicked the remains to pieces. In a final act of defiance, the burning skeleton swung its halberd in a wide, desperate arc. It possessed impressive strength for a creature made of nothing but dry bone.
Rem ducked under the swing and swept his axe upward. The blade flashed like a streak of light, severing the skeleton’s elbow joint. The force of the blow sent the halberd flying into the air. It spun rapidly, scattering sparks in every direction.
Encrid shielded his eyes with the back of his hand, then instinctively reached out. The halberd was falling directly toward him.
He had two choices: dodge or catch.
The weapon seemed to fly toward him as if driven by a lingering consciousness. Relying purely on his Sixth Sense, Encrid didn't move. He caught it.
If it was too hot, he could simply let go. He was confident he could react in a split second. Moreover, seeing that the halberd’s flames didn't scorch the grass below, he had calculated that the fire was contained and wouldn't spread.
All these calculations were processed instantly within the realm of his Sixth Sense. Trusting his intuition, Encrid gripped the shaft.
Fwoosh! Clack!
It wasn't as hot as he had expected. It wasn't the kind of heat that forced an immediate release. Instead of physical pain, something else flooded his mind.
He heard voices.
—Burn!
—Burn them all to death!
—Turn them to ash!
—Burn and die!
In an instant, the life of a man tied to a cross-shaped stake flashed through his mind. The man had been burned alive, executed on charges of practicing magic. He saw the betrayal of ignorant villagers and the lord who had orchestrated the entire tragedy.
Was it a curse? No, it was slightly different.
'It’s similar to Pel’s sword.'
It was a grudge—a resentment harbored within a weapon. A grudge born of a violent death had transformed into a twisted form of human willpower. It was remarkably similar to 'Will'.
Encrid reflected on the man’s life, acknowledged his suffering, and then...
He rejected it.
He refused to burn.
The grudge residing in the spell-bound halberd dispersed and vanished, purified by a far stronger Will. With a soft hiss, the flames enveloping the halberd died out as if doused in cold water. No steam rose; the fire simply ceased to exist.
Audin was the only one who truly understood what had happened. He had known from the start what kind of resentment forged that weapon. He knew the flames originated from the weapon itself, which was why the skeleton appeared to be burning.
He had intended to purify it himself, prepared to endure the excruciating pain of releasing his Divine Power despite his Restriction.
'I might have even passed out.'
To purify a grudge of that magnitude usually required a heavy price. Those who had placed the Restriction on Audin intended to stop him from using Divine Power altogether, but Audin simply ignored the agony and used it anyway. He had been willing to risk losing consciousness, which was why he had dealt with the lesser undead first.
But the moment Encrid grabbed the halberd, the flames had simply vanished.
By then, the rest of the skeleton horde had been neutralized. Teresa stepped on a skull rolling near her feet, crushing it with a sickening crunch. In the sudden silence, the sound echoed through the basin.
Even the wild horse stood still, watching them with wide eyes.
Rem’s voice finally broke the silence. "...Did your hands get sweaty or something?"
Extinguishing a cursed fire with sweat? It was an absurd thought.
"Sometimes, I find that head of yours truly admirable," Sachsen said, his voice dripping with exasperation. Given his profession, he was well-acquainted with cursed items. 'Is it even possible for those flames to just go out like that?'
It certainly shouldn't have been.
"What are you talking about, you crazy wildcat?" Rem asked, looking at Encrid for an explanation.
"It said it was going to burn me to death," Encrid replied simply. "So I told it no."
Rem’s eyes screamed in disbelief. He looked around, searching for someone to agree with how insane that sounded. Ragna seemed completely uninterested, while Audin, who understood the principle behind it, could only marvel in silence.
'It hasn't been long since he realized the nature of Will.'
Yet he wielded it with such mastery. It was nothing short of astonishing.
"Well, it worked out," Sachsen said, brushing it off. After all, had anything Encrid ever done been normal? He was the only "normal" one in this group of freaks anyway.
"Dammit." Rem muttered, "Give it here," and snatched the halberd.
The lingering remnants of the grudge tried to attack Rem as well. It didn't show him memories; it was a pure, fading impulse to burn him. A tiny spark flickered at Rem’s touch, only to fizzle out immediately.
"Hmm?"
Audin was surprised again. What now? Rem hadn't suppressed it with Will.
"Someone worked some trick on this. Can I have it?" Rem muttered. He seemed to recognize something about the craftsmanship. Encrid didn't bother asking for details; he didn't see the point.
"Sure."
Encrid had no greed for weapons. Rem examined the halberd closely, then abruptly chopped the shaft in half with his axe.
Crack!
The handle of the magic weapon was halved, leaving it the size of a hand axe. With its jagged, pointed tip and heavy blade, it was now a formidable one-handed weapon. The balance, however, was terrible.
"You can just attach a weight to the end of the handle," Encrid advised. "That’ll balance it out and clean up the cut."
Rem nodded, clearly pleased. "Feels like a windfall."
Encrid nodded in agreement. To put it bluntly, the skeletons here had been incredibly unlucky. They had run into the Mad Company—a group of monsters capable of changing the course of a war.
Encrid slid his sword back into its scabbard with a soft shring and turned to the horse. "Is that all of them?"
The horse hesitated. Who are these humans? Those skeletons were a nightmare. Then it remembered that this same human had driven a sword through the head of a centaur. The horse let out a cry, its fear replaced by a sense of relief.
"Right," Encrid said, stepping further into the basin.
Whose grave was this? It certainly didn't belong to a poor man. A burning halberd and a squad of skeletons suggested something significant. Perhaps because of the wild horses and the undead guardians, no grave robbers had ever set foot here.
"Should we check the ground?" Encrid asked, pointing toward an artificial structure that looked like a wall.
Sachsen replied before he could finish. "There are a few chests inside."
Encrid had wondered what the scout was doing while they were fighting; it turned out he had already scouted the entire interior.
"Always quick on his feet, that stray cat," Rem praised. Sachsen ignored him as usual.
The group moved deeper into the basin. The terrain was rugged, the ground having collapsed from ancient rains and been hardened by cycles of snow and sun. Sharp stone fragments protruded everywhere like natural traps, but they posed no challenge to the group.
"Now, let me show you something neat."
Rem stopped and swung his new weapon through the air.
Whoosh.
He swung from top to bottom, then snapped it back up. The second swing was different.
Fwoosh!
Flames erupted along the blade.
"Fire Axe Rem. How’s that for a nickname?"
He had already figured out how to trigger the enchantment.
"Sure," Encrid nodded calmly. If he fought with that, he’d just go from being a "crazy axe-wielder" to a "crazy fire-axe-wielder." He kept the thought to himself; everyone needed a little encouragement.
"Heh, nice. Very nice."
As long as Rem was happy, that was enough. The rest of the group ignored him and reached the deepest part of the basin. The ground leveled out into a stable, flat clearing.
Encrid noticed a warm breeze and traced it to a half-open chest. A gentle, constant warmth radiated from within.
"A Heating Stone? Blessing of the Sun God? Lord..." Audin muttered.
Encrid realized that whoever had built this tomb must have had more gold than they knew what to do with.
"Pack it all," Encrid ordered.
There was no silver in the chest. It was filled entirely with gold coins and relics. Aside from the Heating Stone, there was a roll of bandage that felt strangely metallic.
"This is a rare find," Sachsen remarked. He usually only reacted to high-end assassin gear, so his interest meant it was truly valuable.
Encrid examined the thick black bandage. It was about a palm’s width. "It’s made by specially treating the hide of a soft-skinned demonic beast. It’s meant to be wrapped around the torso as Inner Armor," Sachsen explained.
They found some Luminescent Stones, but since everyone had excellent night vision, they didn't care much for them. There were also ruined boots and gloves, a few loose gems, and a diary.
The diary’s contents were eccentric. It was filled with tall tales of riding a Pegasus and exploring impossible lands. It ended with an explanation that the author had settled here because it was his friend’s hometown.
Here lies so-and-so, who wandered his entire life without a home.
The name had been written and then deliberately scribbled over with charcoal. Encrid felt as though the person buried here was expressing a final, satisfied dream. The diary spoke of adventure as a lifelong pursuit, claiming the world was full of endless wonders.
In those pages, Encrid found a sentiment similar to his own—the heart of someone chasing a dream. This man had achieved his goals and found peace. Erasing his name was perhaps his way of saying he had departed with no regrets.
'Is it romantic, or just foolish?'
Perhaps the two were only a hair’s breadth apart. One of his old teachers had said something like that once. Encrid tucked the diary away; he had taken a liking to it.
Sachsen searched the walls for hidden mechanisms, but found nothing. Encrid had been trapped in a similar place once before—where he’d found his current sword—but here, the sky was wide open. It was a strange design, likely intended to keep the stars visible even before the roof collapsed.
Neigh.
The horse approached, and Encrid placed a hand on its forehead. "Are you satisfied now?"
The sun was setting. Thanks to the Heating Stone, the air remained pleasant. The diary mentioned that the skeletons were left as a final "obstacle" for any fellow adventurers.
—An adventure must have obstacles! I hope whoever finds this place can at least handle this much! Well then, make good use of my legacy!
The "legacy" wasn't a legendary holy weapon, but the items were high-quality and expensive. The diary also mentioned that this wasn't his only grave.
—If you’re an explorer, try finding my other graves, too.
The man was a freak, but his passion made Encrid’s heart race. It was an exciting prospect.
"We’ll sleep here tonight and head back tomorrow," Encrid decided.
The tomb was a perfect resting place. The unseasonal warmth was an invitation to stay. He also wanted to give the horse time to say its final goodbyes to the herd.
"Fine by me," Rem said. He sat with the fire axe in his left hand and the Heating Stone in his right. A single stone like that could warm an entire barracks; nobles would pay a fortune for it, but no one here cared about its market value. Since Rem hated the cold, Encrid let him keep it.
Ragna remained indifferent, Audin began his evening prayers, and Sachsen sat in silent meditation. Teresa and Dunchabel were equally uninterested in the gold. Their minds were occupied by their own lives and the path ahead.
Night fell. They lay down without a campfire, looking up as starlight poured into the basin. It was a breathtaking view. Encrid used the starlight as a blanket, the gentle warmth of the tomb enveloping him.
As he closed his eyes, Encrid met the Ferryman.
The Ferryman’s voice was laced with its usual mockery. "You always surround yourself with people just like you."
Encrid wondered if that was a compliment. The dream was short.