Chapter 390: The Curse(4)
Chapter 390: The Curse(4)
The outcome of the sorcery was somewhat ambiguous, but summoning the soul had been a success. The traces left behind by the spirit confirmed beyond a doubt that it had manifested here.
However, calling the entire endeavor a complete success felt like a stretch. Normally, a summoned soul is supposed to linger, but this one had vanished after leaving behind a few cryptic words.
Usually, a spirit stays to converse with the sorcerer, but there was none of that. It simply said its piece and departed.
"He was always that kind of man. Even before he passed, he left after saying only what he wanted to say."
Father didn't seem to mind that a literal spiritual whirlwind had just swept through. His attitude was very much 'if he comes, he comes; if he doesn't, he doesn't.'
Still, he couldn't entirely hide his bitterness. Despite their strained relationship, the news of Grandfather's passing must have been quite a shock.
Father had once told me that while the man had a foul temper, his back was more reliable than anyone else's. Even now, Father believed that as a warrior, Grandfather was likely the strongest of them all. For a man like my father to say such a thing, I couldn't even begin to fathom just how powerful the man must have been.
"He could have at least told me what he was doing before he went. I don't even understand what he meant by saying he's coming here. Sigh... How frustrating."
"Shouldn't we just wait and see?"
"Let's do that for now. Obsessing over it won't change anything. And, little one."
"Yes, yes?"
Father called out to Leona, who had conducted the ritual. Leona’s eyes went wide in surprise.
Father gave her a grateful smile and bowed his head slightly, offering his thanks in a gentle voice.
"Thank you. It’s bittersweet, but at least the uncertainty is gone."
"Um... do you really think that soul was your father?"
"I can tell instinctively. Leaving after saying only what he wants to say is that man's trademark."
Pat, pat.
As he spoke, Father stroked Leona’s head with his thick hand. Leona let out a silly grin at the touch. Seeing her tail wagging back and forth, she seemed to be in a great mood after receiving praise. I watched the scene warmly before turning my gaze to Ariel.
Ariel was the only one among us who had actually seen the soul presumed to be Grandfather. However, we didn't know for sure.
"Ariel."
"Yeah?"
"That soul you saw earlier. Did it only have a mouth, like the last one?"
The soul of the demon worshipper had been like an egg-ghost—just a mouth on a featureless face. I asked because I wondered if the soul presumed to be Grandfather looked the same.
Ariel thought deeply about my question for a moment, then tilted her head and answered cutely.
"No? This time, he had everything. Eyes, a nose, a mouth, and even hair. Though it was all stark white."
As soon as I heard Ariel’s description, I checked the reactions of the others. Sure enough, everyone’s attention was fixed on her.
Everyone here knew that Ariel could see souls. They also knew she had quite literally devoured the demon worshipper's soul.
Father’s expression turned serious, and he spoke in a cautious voice.
"Child. Could you perhaps describe what that soul looked like?"
"Ummm..."
At Father’s question, Ariel closed her eyes and began to rack her brain. She seemed to be trying to assemble words in her head to explain it somehow.
However, since her vocabulary was still quite limited, a proper explanation was difficult. Ariel was, after all, essentially a newborn who had only been in this world for about a month.
Just as Father realized this and was about to give up, Ariel’s eyes snapped open, and she looked at me.
"Papa. Papa."
"What is it?"
"Do you have this? This, this."
Ariel mimed drawing with her hands. It seemed she wanted a pen and paper.
Understanding her intent, I handed her the magic pen and notebook I always carried. After receiving them, Ariel began to draw something with surprisingly fluid movements.
"...Ariel?"
"Yeah?"
"Have you ever studied drawing before?"
I knew the answer was almost certainly no, but I had to ask. What Ariel was drawing wasn't just 'good.' It wasn't just scribbling with a pen; it was full of life, even capturing detailed shading and contrast.
I consider myself to have a decent eye for art, occasionally including illustrations in my books, but Ariel’s skill was on an entirely different level.
"No? I'm just drawing what's in my head."
"You're just... drawing it?"
"Yeah. It's not hard."
"The professional artists are going to weep, kid."
As Mari said, Ariel’s skill was not at all inferior to those called masters. If aspiring artists heard her say it wasn't hard, they would fall into despair.
After a moment of being stunned, I saw Ariel looking at me with sparkling eyes, clearly wanting praise. I chuckled and stroked her head. Ariel seemed delighted by the gesture and hugged my leg tightly. How could she be this cute?
"..."
Meanwhile, Father was staring intently at the drawing in the notebook. His brow was deeply furrowed as if he were lost in thought.
I picked Ariel up and slowly approached him to check the drawing together. The moment I saw it, only one thought came to mind.
"...Were his thighs really that thick?"
It didn't matter that he was drawn naked since he was a soul; as a spiritual body, he didn't even have private parts. But even putting that aside, the thickness of his thighs was exceptionally striking. It wasn't an exaggeration to say his thighs were thicker than a woman's waist.
And what about his upper body? The lower body was one thing, but the upper body was far beyond just being muscular. It felt a bit disrespectful to say this about my grandfather, but he looked less like a human and more like a shrunken Ogre.
Furthermore, his hair, which grew long and spiky like a lion's mane, gave him the overall appearance of a wild beast.
That body reminds me of a combat manga from my previous life.
It wasn't just a metaphor; it was literally true. I doubted whether a human could actually possess such a physique.
Of course, my father also had an incredible body, not far behind the grandfather in the drawing. It just wasn't emphasized much because he rarely took his clothes off.
I stared at the figure presumed to be my grandfather in the drawing before turning to Father. He still had his brow furrowed, but his expression was one of complicated emotions.
"Is this man my grandfather?"
"Yes."
"What was his name?"
"Clark Maishal."
My name is Isaac, and my grandfather’s name is Clark. Putting them together, it formed a name that sounded like he could slaughter monsters with nothing but a power tool.
Setting that aside for a moment, I wondered what Grandfather Clark had been doing before he died. He was a wanderer who traveled the world, but he didn't seem like the type to just die in some random place. If he had died away from home, it must have been due to a disaster-level incident.
I stared at the drawing and tilted my head.
By the way, what did he mean by saying he's coming soon?
Does it mean his soul is coming back here?
*
The expedition team investigating the secret temple of the demon worshippers was experiencing an unexpected upheaval.
They had certainly sprayed Holy Water everywhere as a precaution, and as if that wasn't enough, they had also saturated the area with Divine Power.
Skeletons and zombies are beings resurrected by foul forces like necromancy. Naturally, they should be vulnerable to Divine Power.
Yes. Normally, that would be the case.
Smash!
A glass bottle filled with Holy Water struck a skeleton's skull with pinpoint accuracy. Simultaneously, the bottle shattered, and its contents spilled out. The Holy Water glowed with a faint golden light, proving it contained the power of Luminous.
[Ah.]
"W-What? It didn't do anything!!"
"Holy Water! Bring more Holy Water!"
"Priest! Where is the priest! Hurry, chant the spell!"
However, it had no effect on the skeleton that had suddenly reanimated within the temple. The Holy Water simply rolled off its skull like sweat. The shattered glass fell uselessly to the floor. Naturally, the expedition members who had thrown the water were horrified.
What kind of skeleton was this that even Divine Power didn't work? And what kind of being was it that it could even speak?
As everyone panicked in the face of this sudden development, the skeleton rubbed its smooth skull and looked at its hand. Its hand was nothing but bare bone. It was clearly a dead being, yet it was strangely alive.
[This feels quite strange.]
The skeleton muttered as it moved its skeletal hand. The first thing it reached for was a sword embedded in its ribs.
Schwing—
The skeleton began to pull out the weapons lodged in its ribs and various other parts of its body one by one. One could roughly deduce how fierce a battle he had fought until the moment of his death; there were even weapons piercing vital points. Furthermore, his right arm showed signs of having been torn off by immense force. An archaeologist had merely reattached it for analysis, but it allowed one to guess his state.
Clang—
Finally, after pulling out the sword lodged near its heart, the skeleton looked forward. He saw the people who had thrown the Holy Water earlier, along with the rest of the expedition team that had come as reinforcements.
Knights, mages, and even priests.
From any perspective, they were hostile toward him. Then again, it was a natural reaction since he had been resurrected as a skeleton.
Still, he felt they should at least talk. Following his habit from when he was alive, the skeleton cleared his throat and spoke politely.
[Excuse me. If I could just have a word...]
"There it is! Priest! Quickly, the blessing!"
[No. Just listen to me for a moment...]
Flash!
Before the skeleton could finish, the priest chanted a spell and unleashed a blessing. Perhaps because the priest’s faith was quite strong, the entire temple was bathed in golden light.
"Heavenly Punishment!"
Boom!
With the final cry, a pillar of gold slammed down onto the skeleton's head. If it were an ordinary skeleton, it surely would have...
[I told you to listen to what I'm saying.]
"H-How?"
"What in the world..."
It didn't work. In fact, as if it had absorbed the Divine Power, the skull and other bones seemed to have more of a luster to them.
As the expedition team stood aghast at the fact that Divine Power was completely ineffective, the skeleton spoke in a slightly annoyed voice. Rather than a natural voice, it sounded more like a recording.
[I have just one question. Hawk Ducard Maishal.]
"...What?"
[And Isaac Ducard Maishal. Do you know where these two are?]
He asked very politely, but...
"T-The demon worshippers must have used some trickery! We must stop that thing!"
"Mages, prepare your spells! I don't care if this temple collapses, just make sure that thing doesn't get out!"
It had the opposite effect. From the expedition team's perspective, this was a perfectly natural reaction, as the skeleton had mentioned Isaac’s name. To them, it was obvious that a demon worshipper had used a foul art and that the skeleton intended to kill Isaac. It wasn't that they were being short-sighted; from their point of view, it was the most logical conclusion.
[Good grief...]
Of course, for the skeleton—no, for Clark—it was an absurd situation.
Soon, as the expedition members began to arm themselves one by one, Clark shook his head as if he had no choice. He had wanted to leave quietly if possible, but it seemed that wouldn't be happening.
[I suppose it can't be helped.]
Clark gripped a double-edged axe firmly with both hands. He looked at the expedition team in front of him and slowly lifted one leg.
While the fully prepared expedition team was about to launch their attack, Clark was one step faster.
Thump!
He stomped the ground with his raised foot.
KABOOM!
A massive mound of earth rose like a tidal wave, sweeping over the expedition team.