Chapter 50
Chapter 50
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 50
Chapter Title: Undead Comrades
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What awaited Carlyle and his party as they left Antiros's Laboratory was, as expected, the rain.
A fierce downpour still raged outside.
If anything, the rain was even heavier than when they had first arrived at the laboratory.
It seemed to have started yesterday morning, and at this point, it showed no signs of stopping.
As night deepened, a thick fog began to roll in, reducing visibility to almost nothing.
"Hmm."
As Begman paused, lost in thought, Kudo offered a suggestion.
"Wouldn't it be better to wait until dawn before heading back?"
"That's true."
Begman nodded in agreement.
"The fog is too thick."
"Then we'll rest and leave in the morning..."
"No."
Begman shook his head.
"Normally, I'd say we rest, but the situation isn't good. It's better to return quickly, even if it's a bit risky."
"Hmph."
"It would be a problem if the enemy launched an all-out attack while we're away."
"Understood."
No one objected to Begman's decision.
Given the circumstances, they all accepted that they had to take some risks.
"Alright, let's move."
"Yes, sir."
They were making their way back to Bowden Fortress, pushing through the heavy rain, darkness, and thick fog.
"Sniff! Sniff, sniff!"
Begman's pet, a silver wolf, suddenly stopped and began sniffing the air.
"What is it?"
"Sniff!"
"Do you smell something?"
"Whimper! Whimper!"
The silver wolf grew restless, weaving between Begman's legs.
"Looks like something's coming."
Carlyle drew Grimungandr.
"You sense something too?"
"No."
Carlyle shook his head.
"My detection ability only works on barbarians."
"Is that so?"
"It seems to have caught a dangerous scent. We should be prepared."
Carlyle gestured toward the whimpering silver wolf.
The silver wolf's sense of smell was so exceptional that it could accurately detect the scent of approaching enemies even in such harsh weather.
"Prepare for battle."
At Begman's command, the rest of the team drew their weapons and scanned their surroundings.
However, the dense fog meant they couldn't actually see anything, despite their vigilance.
"Bark, bark! Bark, bark, bark!"
The whimpering silver wolf began to bark fiercely, and soon, horrifying figures emerged one by one from the fog.
Ghouls.
Reanimated corpses, a classic undead monster.
The problem was that these ghouls were soldiers, clad in armor and armed with weapons.
'Corpse soldiers.'
Carlyle identified them at a glance.
Corpse soldiers were an enhanced version of the undead monster, ghouls, and could only be created from the bodies of former soldiers.
Indeed, among the corpse soldiers that appeared, many were clearly barbarian warriors in their past lives.
And the only person in this area who would command corpse soldiers was...
'Crowley!'
Carlyle instantly knew that the one controlling these corpse soldiers was the evil necromancer, Crowley.
After all, wasn't Crowley's dungeon located only about two kilometers from Bowden Fortress?
Just then, the rain began to subside, and a cool moonlight shone through a break in the dark clouds.
"You... you're..."
Begman caught sight of a corpse soldier's face in the moonlight and instinctively took a step back.
"Derek... why are you...?"
The corpse soldier at the front was Derek, a reconnaissance team member who had died in battle two days ago.
***
Derek wasn't the only familiar face.
"That... isn't that Michael from the engineering corps? The one who died two days ago?"
Russell said, pointing to a corpse soldier across from Derek.
He was trembling.
Already terrified, Russell's finger shook like a leaf.
"Why... why is Derek a corpse soldier?"
Begman looked utterly confused.
Weren't Derek's and Michael's bodies supposed to be interred in a cave about a kilometer from Bowden Fortress?
Why had they appeared here as corpse soldiers...?
'Even for Crowley, isn't this too reckless?'
Carlyle couldn't fathom Crowley's audacity.
Necromancers were supposed to be cautious, always watching their backs.
Why else would Crowley himself have left the continent to hide here in Kuberin?
On the continent, necromancers were targets for immediate extermination.
Why?
Because if left alone, they would continue to research and advance their evil magic, sometimes even making pacts with high-ranking demons and causing great chaos in the world.
That was why, on the continent, necromancers were treated like poisonous mushrooms or mold—hunted down and killed on sight.
Even in the Blood-Soaked Land of Kuberin, this was no exception.
The moment his existence was revealed, both the Decaron forces and the allied kingdom armies would surely form an extermination squad and come after him.
And yet, he dared to desecrate the bodies of fallen soldiers?
It was an act of incredible nerve, even for a vile necromancer.
'Has he lost his mind?'
Just as Carlyle was thinking this,
"I've finally found you."
A chilling voice emanated from Derek's mouth.
Coming from the vocal cords of a rotting corpse, the sound was naturally hoarse and rough.
"I thought I was going to lose you. Heh heh heh."
"You sound like a stalker. It's quite unpleasant."
Kudo retorted with a cold smile.
"You, the one behind this, who are you?"
"I have no business with the likes of you, so stay out of it. My interest isn't in you."
The gaze of the one controlling Derek's body turned to Carlyle.
"You're a Sigmund, aren't you?"
"Are you talking to me?"
"Yes, you. Carlyle van Sigmund. They call you the northern brute, don't they?"
"That's right... why?"
"You foolish boy."
Crowley said with a sneer.
"Do I really need to spell out why I'm looking for a Sigmund?"
"Don't tell me... you want to turn me into one of your undead?"
"A Sigmund would make for the finest material. Heheheh."
No wonder he was acting so recklessly; it seemed he coveted a material that carried the Sigmund bloodline.
"You just called me a brute. You'd use a brute like me as material?"
"That's not for you to judge, prodigal son of Sigmund. A Sigmund is a Sigmund. The body alone is more than enough value, even if it belongs to the family's disgrace and the world's greatest brute. Heheheheh."
"Ugh."
Crowley's gaze was so unsettling it made Carlyle want to gag.
It felt like facing a pervert blinded by lust.
"But."
Carlyle frowned, completely baffled.
"How did you know I was a Sigmund? I haven't worn a uniform. This is the first time we've met... Ah. Don't tell me that was it."
Carlyle realized what had happened, his expression showing he'd been outplayed.
If the unsettling gaze he had felt for the past two days was Crowley's, then everything made sense.
And the source of that unsettling gaze was, as he suspected...
"It was Bjornsen. No wonder the back of my head was prickling. His head on the fortress wall was staring at me. You must have used it to find out I was a Sigmund and that we had left the fortress."
Carlyle guessed that Crowley must have stumbled upon Bjornsen's corpse and used necromancy to form a pact with it.
"Heh heh. For a brute, you're pretty sharp."
Crowley looked rather pleased.
"Now that you understand, it's time to die. Judging by your tone, you won't become my thrall willingly."
The corpse soldiers began to move one by one.
"By the time I arrive, you will all be corpses. The next time you open your eyes, we will meet again as master and servant. My future thralls..."
Crowley's voice faded as if from a great distance.
It seemed Crowley, who had been possessing Derek from the safety of his dungeon, had departed.
"Grrrk!"
His consciousness restored, Derek snarled at his former comrades—Carlyle and his party.
Of course, as an undead, he no longer had a self to speak of.
***
"Kyaaaargh!"
Derek lunged at Carlyle.
"Guwaaaargh!"
"Grrrrrr!"
The other corpse soldiers followed Derek's lead, charging at Carlyle's party.
The battle that ensued seemed like one where it wouldn't be surprising if Carlyle's party was annihilated in an instant.
Corpse soldiers were far more powerful than ordinary ghouls. Moreover, they retained the combat skills and tactical knowledge they had honed in life, making them incredibly difficult opponents.
Furthermore, with their numbers nearing thirty, it was absurd to think that five mere soldiers, not knights, could stand against them.
But the members of Carlyle's party, assigned to this dungeon exploration mission, were no ordinary soldiers.
"Derek! You bastard! I'll take responsibility and put you to rest!"
Begman relentlessly pressed Derek.
"Grrrrrr!"
The silver wolf also showed incredible prowess, using its massive body and sharp fangs to tear the corpse soldiers apart.
And that wasn't all.
"These mere corpses are nothing."
"Yip! Yip!"
The suspiciously skilled Kudo also dealt with the corpse soldiers with ease, alongside his pet, a fire fox.
"I'll kill you... no... you're already dead... so I'll kill you again... I'LL KILL YOUUUUUU—!!!"
"Shaaa, shaaa!"
Having wet himself again, Russell transformed into a berserker, mincing the corpse soldiers into chunks of meat alongside his Forest Maniac.
Meanwhile, the archer Marder's performance was nothing short of brilliant.
Marder seemed to get the hang of his new bow after just a few shots, unleashing a constant barrage of arrows using [Rapid Fire].
Thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack!
Each arrow he fired pierced the knee joints of the corpse soldiers, crippling their movements.
Despite being an archer, Marder's close-combat skills were quite impressive.
Adding to that, the was a bow specialized for close quarters, creating significant synergy.
"Screeeech!"
Marder's pet, Hugin, also did its part, scratching and pecking at the corpse soldiers.
While the senior soldiers fought alongside their pets, Carlyle was alone.
'What is this thing even doing?'
Carlyle thought of the hatchling sleeping in his coat as he sliced an advancing corpse soldier in two.
He could feel the hatchling sleeping soundly inside his clothes.
'The other pets are running all over the place helping their masters, and this one is just sleeping? Fine, I can accept that. But how can it possibly sleep through all this chaos?'
It was absurd no matter how he thought about it, but the hatchling showed no signs of waking.
It didn't even show its face until the battle was over.
Thud!
Begman's boot pressed down on Derek's chest.
"Grk, grrrk!"
Derek struggled, but with one leg and both arms already severed, he couldn't push Begman off.
"I'm sorry I was such a useless leader that I couldn't protect you until the end."
"Guwaak, guwaaaak!"
"Rest now. Don't struggle like this."
With a sickening crunch, Begman's axe split Derek's head in two.
With Derek's demise, the battle was over.
"Captain, what about Derek's body...?"
"Of course we're taking it with us."
Just as Begman answered Marder's question,
"No."
Carlyle stepped in.
"I feel bad for Private Derek, but we should leave him."
"What did you say, you bastard? It's bad enough he became undead, and now you want to abandon his body?"
Begman's eyes blazed.
"What if they catch up to us?"
"Catch up?"
"That necromancer said it, didn't he? That the next time we meet, it would be as master and servant."
"He... he did."
"He's probably leading his other thralls here right now. You want to carry Private Derek's body with us?"
"Can't you use that magic pouch?"
"It doesn't work on things like corpses. Maybe if it were food."
"Hmm."
Begman thought for a moment, then hoisted Derek's body onto his back.
"Then I'll carry him. Stay out of it."
"Are you trying to get yourself killed?"
"If it looks like I can't keep up, I'll put him down then. Now stop talking and move."
"..."
"The reconnaissance team..."
Begman said through gritted teeth.
"Doesn't abandon its comrades. We always bring them home. Even if it's just a body."