Chapter 65
Chapter 65
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 65
Chapter Title: A Sister's Price
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“I’m asking you. Is that how you ask your older sister for a favor?”
“...”
“Why aren’t you answering?”
Carlyle looked over at Maranello instead of answering.
“They say everyone has a little dirt on them, but you seem to have more than your fair share. Did you perhaps embezzle tribal funds?”
“What kind of bullsh— Agh!”
“Heh heh. You just don't seem to be learning any manners, do you?”
“Kuaaagh!”
Carlyle had sent his own version of a distress signal, but Maranello, despite knowing full well, just kept flicking his feather duster, pretending to be focused on Jarkan.
*That sly old fox.*
Carlyle gritted his teeth at Maranello, who pretended not to notice even though their eyes had clearly met.
“This is a battlefield. Before I'm your sister, I'm a high-ranking commander of the Decaron army. Is a mere private allowed to ask a general-grade officer for a favor with that kind of attitude?”
“...”
“If you really want that necromancer, then ask properly and politely. Maybe then I'll change my mind.”
“Ugh.”
Carlyle tore at his hair in anguish.
“What, you don't want to?”
“No.”
“Then do it.”
“Pl... ease...”
“What was that? Again.”
“I... ask you.”
“Properly.”
“Please.”
“Hmm?”
“Please, Sis.”
A triumphant smirk spread across Selena's lips.
*Ugh.*
Carlyle seethed with a sense of defeat.
He didn't know why, but calling Selena 'Sis' and asking politely felt like losing.
“There, good boy.”
“...”
“Do I always have to push you this far to get some nice words out of you? Would it kill you to be like this normally?”
“I did it, so stop.”
“Stop what?”
“I did what you wanted, so why are you still nagging?”
“You think this is nagging?”
“Yeah.”
“You little...”
Selena's eyes widened, but Carlyle didn't even blink.
He'd be no match for her in a sword fight, but a staring contest was another matter entirely.
“A promise is a promise. Don't go back on your word, not after acting like a big sister.”
“You really...”
Selena looked like she was about to say something more, but then seemed to change her mind, shaking her head and taking a step back.
“Fine, I'll keep my promise. An older sister can't go back on her word. Deal with the necromancer yourself.”
At that, one of the knights who had been silent until now spoke up.
His name was Kristan.
He was Grand Duke Guntram's favored adjutant.
“My lady... no, Brigade Commander. Have you forgotten His Grace the Grand Duke's order to capture the necromancer alive?”
“Won't you shut up?”
Carlyle snarled at Kristan.
“Open that mouth one more time, and I'll kill you first. Understand?”
But Kristan, acting as if he hadn't even heard Carlyle's threat, addressed Selena again.
“Brigade Commander, are you planning to disobey an order? His Grace's command was to capture the necromancer alive if possible. Ceding the necromancer to the Young Master here could be treated as insubordination...”
*Shing!*
Grimungandr was at Kristan's throat.
*Drip...*
The blade was so sharp that a red drop of blood trickled down from where it touched his skin.
“I believe I told you. Open your mouth one more time, and I'll kill you first.”
Kristan flinched, his body trembling.
It wasn't because he was truly afraid of Carlyle.
Kristan was Grand Duke Guntram's favored adjutant and one of the three strongest warriors not of the Sigmund bloodline.
In a one-on-one fight, Carlyle would be no match for him.
Despite this, Kristan flinched because he had met Carlyle's gaze.
*Swoosh!*
A ghastly blue will-o'-the-wisp flickered in Carlyle's deep purple eyes.
Carlyle's rage and hatred for Crowley were so intense that even an overwhelmingly superior warrior like Kristan couldn't help but be shaken.
“Keep talking.”
“Hmph. Killing a superior officer is a capital offense. Are you aware of that, Private Carlyle?”
Kristan scoffed and tried to press Grimungandr away with his finger, but Carlyle pushed the blade deeper.
*Drip, drip, drip!*
More blood trickled down Kristan's neck.
“I told you. I'll kill you.”
“A-Are you serious?”
Panic tinged Kristan's voice.
No matter how much stronger Kristan was than Carlyle, with a blade at his throat, one wrong move could get his head sliced off.
Besides, judging by Carlyle's aura, he felt the boy might actually kill him.
In fact, Carlyle did intend to kill Kristan.
*I was planning to kill you with my own hands someday. You just walked right into it, you filthy traitor.*
Kristan was, in fact, a spy from a rival family, a man who would one day betray the Sigmunds.
Killing him would only be a gain, not a loss.
The problem was, killing Kristan without a plan would lead to a massive headache afterward.
“Both of you, stop. That's an order.”
In the end, Selena, unable to watch any longer, intervened.
“Sir Kristan.”
“Yes, Brigade Commander.”
“Regarding this matter, as the commander on site, I am delegating full authority to Private Carlyle.”
“But...”
“I'll take responsibility. Sir Kristan, you will say no more on this matter.”
“Yes, Brigade Commander.”
Kristan bowed his head to Selena, then slowly turned to look at Carlyle.
Seeing as he didn't mention the crime of assaulting and threatening a superior officer, it seemed he had no intention of making an issue of it.
Of course, there was still the possibility that he would quietly hold a grudge...
“I've kept my promise, so you're on your own now. But remember, I won't help you at all.”
“Wouldn't have it any other way.”
Carlyle felt he had already received more than enough help.
At least in a one-on-one fight, he wanted no help or interference from anyone.
Even if the price was death.
***
“These goddamn bastards...!”
Crowley was genuinely furious.
How dare they squabble over him?
But that was the reality of the situation.
“Heh heh. So this is the price for messing with the Sigmunds. Hehehe.”
A hollow laugh suddenly escaped Crowley's lips.
Strictly speaking, while Crowley might not have been a genius, he was by no means a talentless mage.
If he had no magical talent to begin with, he could never have created an army of the undead.
But despite dedicating his entire life to the dark arts, to the greenhorns of the Sigmund family, he was nothing more than prey.
Hadn't his entire life's work—his undead legion—been annihilated by a single slash from Selena?
Crowley simply couldn't accept such an unfair reality.
Of course, that was only from Crowley's perspective.
*I'll kill him.*
Carlyle ignored Crowley's rage, gripping Grimungandr and steadying his stance.
*This should be enough.*
Carlyle's body had recovered enough to fight.
Thanks to Selena's arrival, the various potions had been given time to take effect.
*Fwoooosh!*
Carlyle was engulfed in a black aura.
[Notification: Berserk, activated!]
[Notification: 60 seconds remaining!]
The moment Carlyle activated [Berserk], the unique power of the Sigmunds, he charged at Crowley.
“How dare you!”
Crowley roared and swung his wand.
*Swish, swish!*
Dozens of bone spears rained down on Carlyle.
*I can see them.*
*Clang, clatter!*
Grimungandr danced wildly, slicing through all the spears.
“Even if you are a Sigmund, did you think a brat like you could defeat me!”
Crowley bellowed, unleashing all sorts of curses on Carlyle.
[Notification: Magic Nullified!!!]
But to Carlyle, who had become the [King of the Netherworld] through his Blood Seal Awakening, Crowley's curses had 'zero' effect.
One of the necromancers' specialties was weakening their enemies with curses.
But what if those curses didn't work?
It was no different from fighting with your hands and feet cut off.
Moreover, it wasn't just curses; restraints like [Bone Shackles] were also ineffective against Carlyle.
“My minions! What are you doing! Attack him now!”
“...”
Crowley ordered the few remaining corpse soldiers and death knights to attack, but for some reason, their response was extremely passive.
Normally, the undead were beings bound to the necromancer who created them.
For them to be so passive in response to a command was highly unusual.
“Attack him! Now!”
Only after Crowley poured a large amount of dark mana into his skull-shaped wand, strengthening his control over them, did the undead reluctantly begin to move.
“O thou who dwells at the dawn of the vast netherworld...”
A prayer flowed from Carlyle's lips.
It was not something he had been taught, nor had he memorized it.
He simply knew.
By the power of the ancient gods and spirits etched into the Sigmund bloodline.
“Awaken the karma of the dead, bind their souls, and bring the blade of judgment upon their sinful flesh and spirit. Grahim, First Lord of Hell... answer my call.”
*Shhhhaaaaaa!*
Hundreds of blades erupted from the ground, piercing the bodies of the undead that were charging Carlyle and sealing their movements.
“Grrrr!”
“Gwaak, gwaaak!”
While the undead were trapped in the [Hell of Blades], Carlyle quickly closed the distance to Crowley.
“!”
A startled Crowley hastily summoned a bone shield to block Carlyle's assault.
***
*Clang, claaang!*
Grimungandr struck the bone shield again and again.
*Crack, craaack!*
Each time Grimungandr's blade came down, bone fragments flew in all directions as the shield shattered.
“Keuk, keuuuk!”
Crowley tried desperately to escape Carlyle's onslaught, but as a necromancer who had spent his entire life immersed in research, close-quarters combat against a swordsman like Carlyle was an overwhelming burden.
Furthermore, wasn't Carlyle in a state of [Berserk] thanks to his Blood Seal Awakening?
*Now.*
Soul Soother Sword, Loyal Thrust.
The ultimate thrust pierced the bone shield, aiming for Crowley's heart.
*Thwump!*
Grimungandr ran through Crowley's heart.
“Cough, keuk!”
Blood gushed from Crowley's mouth.
“You... you Sigmund brat... you coward...”
It seemed Crowley was still bitter that Selena's interference had ruined his plans.
A necromancer who enslaved the undead, feeling bitter about unfairness...
“Heh.”
A contemptuous smile touched Carlyle's lips.
“What, are you bitter that I called my sister?”
“Cough, keuk!”
“If you're so bitter, why don't you call your sister?”
“How... can you say that... cough!”
“Ah. Don't have a sister to call?”
Carlyle said, pulling Grimungandr from Crowley's chest.
*Thud!*
Crowley collapsed to his knees.
“Then again, scum like you wouldn't have a family. And if you did, they would have all left you.”
“Th-That's...”
Was it because he was facing death?
Crowley's face twisted as if he'd been wounded by the words.
“You won't rest in peace even in death. Just as you enslaved the dead.”
*Shhhhaaaaaa!*
*Stab, shhhk!*
Dozens of blades erupted from the ground, skewering Crowley's entire body as if mincing him.
And then...
- *N-No! Noooooooooo! Please, please don't take me! Pleeeeaaaaase!*
A ghastly wail echoed.
It was the scream of a sinful soul being dragged to hell.