Chapter 397: Who Are You(2)
Chapter 397: Who Are You(2)
In all my life, I had never seen a monster, let alone a wild animal, up close. Occasionally, I’d see a stray dog or cat wandering through the village, or if I was lucky, a bird might descend from the sky.
Part of it was because I spent most of my time cooped up in the mansion, but our territory itself was so peaceful that there was almost no reason to encounter a monster.
Even a beast or a monster needs something worth taking to justify an ambush or a raid. Before our recent development, this place was the definition of a backwater.
On the rare occasion a lost beast or monster did appear, my father would step in personally and butcher it.
And I do mean butcher. I’ve never witnessed it myself, but the vassals and commoners testify to it, so I imagine it’s a rather one-sided affair.
At any rate, I had never seen low-level monsters like goblins or orcs, much less a skeleton resurrected through necromancy.
"So, you're saying... that Lord Clark was resurrected... by our sorcery?"
[That’s right, you brats. I even left a message myself, didn't I?]
Despite the absurdity of the situation, a skeleton sat before me, speaking with utter confidence. He was nothing but bone, yet his imposing frame stood out, perhaps emphasized by his weathered armor.
This alone was confusing enough, but this skeleton claimed to be my father’s father—my grandfather, Clark Maishal—and that he had been brought back by our own sorcery.
Unable to process such an unbelievable story, I tore my gaze away from Clark and looked to the side.
Kate was sitting next to him, and for some reason, she still looked completely cowed.
"Lady Kate?"
"Ye-yes?"
"Is what he’s saying really the truth?"
Skeletons are the hallmark of necromancers and one of the primary tools used by demon worshippers.
The more skilled the necromancer, the stronger the skeleton and the greater the number they can control.
Naturally, they are perceived as inherently evil entities, yet Kate—a Grand Inquisitor—had brought one here herself. It was a combination that made absolutely no sense.
"Yes... He is undoubtedly the distinguished guest Lord Luminous spoke of."
Kate answered my question in a small voice. Seeing her confidence so utterly depleted made me arch an eyebrow.
What on earth had happened to make her so intimidated? Had something occurred during her encounter with Clark?
The most likely possibility was that Clark appeared to be a highly intelligent skeleton capable of speech.
To an ordinary person, he would look like nothing more than a monster—an undead summoned by a necromancer. And Kate was a Grand Inquisitor with profound faith.
They must have clashed.
Luminous hadn't explicitly told her to bring Clark, after all. He had only given an ambiguous oracle to bring a 'distinguished guest.'
Deciding I would need to speak with her privately later, I turned my attention back to Clark.
[Do you believe me now? And you, Hawk, you rascal. Didn't you ask for my remains yourself?]
His jaw didn't move as he spoke, but a golden light flickered within his empty eye sockets.
Father stood there dazed for a moment before scratching beneath his nose awkwardly, looking sheepish. His expression was a complex mix of 'this is impossible' and 'I guess I have to believe it.'
"Well... I did. But who told you to come back like this? If Cardinal Kate hadn't been with you, I would've split your skull with an axe."
[Hahaha! Bold words. Well, perhaps you could beat me now. I’m nothing but bones, so I can hardly use any of my strength.]
"Uuuugh..."
Ariel, who had been watching their conversation, rubbed her eyes and let out a small groan. After blinking a few times, she stared at Clark again.
She tilted her head, looking as though she saw something strange about him. I asked her gently, concerned.
"What is it, Ariel? Are you feeling sick?"
"No. That. Look at that."
[Ho ho ho.]
Ariel pointed a finger at Clark, referring to him as 'that.' Clark let out a hollow, amused laugh at her reaction.
It was an incredibly rude way to address someone, but she had no idea Clark was her great-grandfather. Besides, since he was a skeleton, 'that' was a natural enough descriptor.
Just as I was making a mental note to give her a lesson on manners later, she spoke up again, sounding puzzled.
"It’s overlapping strangely."
"Overlapping?"
"Yeah. A person and bones are overlapping."
I was confused at first, but the meaning soon clicked. I pulled out my notebook to visualize it better.
It wasn't that a soul was simply inhabiting the bones; rather, it seemed the bones were clinging to the soul as if he were wearing them like armor.
When I asked Ariel if that was what she saw, she nodded vigorously.
"Yeah! Yeah! That’s it! That’s how it looks!"
"I see. Since Ariel can see souls, it must look that way to her."
[Now that I think about it, you said she was a Child of the World Tree?]
Clark stroked his chin bone as he peered at Ariel. Hearing that, a question occurred to me, and I spoke up.
"Grandfather."
[Hmm? Why do you call?]
"Do you also know about the Xenon Biography and how the world is changing?"
If he knew nothing, he would have come looking for my father, not me. I wasn't even born when he passed away.
Yet, the moment Clark saw me, he knew immediately that I was his grandson. Furthermore, he knew Ariel’s identity without being told.
This meant he was aware of the world's current state. I was curious how a dead man could know such things.
[Of course. How could I pass on when I never even had a funeral? But since I couldn't interfere with the living world, I just wandered here and there.]
"Huh? Do you have to have a funeral to pass on?"
[Naturally. I thought a funeral was just a courtesy for the deceased, but after dying, I realized that wasn't the case. Well, regardless of that, there’s another reason I know how the world has changed.]
"Another reason?"
I wondered if he had received divine help. However, the answer that came from Clark’s mouth far exceeded my imagination.
[I stayed by my son’s side because I was worried the brat would die.]
"...What?"
Father asked back, sounding utterly bewildered. His face didn't look creeped out so much as it looked like he was at a loss for words.
Clark nodded as if he understood the reaction and then said something no ordinary person would ever think of.
[I left him all alone without any siblings; I had to stay by him out of guilt, if nothing else. Of course, contrary to my worries, he grew up just fine on his own, but there were still demon worshippers lurking about.]
"..."
[Fortunately, I was good at erasing tracks, so no one targeted my son. It helped that his post was in the border region.]
"No, if that was the case, you should have appeared in my dreams and told me where your body was! I’ve heard stories of deceased parents or ancestors helping out in dreams. Why didn't you do that, Father? We could have held a proper funeral much sooner."
Father protested, sounding exasperated. It seemed he now fully believed that this was indeed his biological father.
As he said, there are rare cases where deceased family members or distant ancestors appear in dreams to offer advice.
However, such occurrences are extremely rare, and due to the nature of dreams, people usually forget them upon waking, making them largely ineffective.
But Clark responded to Father’s reproach with a heavy tone, his gaze (or the feeling of it) sinking deep.
[I couldn't. If I had, you would have surely discovered the existence of the demon worshippers. Your mother was already taken by them; I couldn't risk losing you too.]
"What? Are you saying those bandits were demon worshippers?"
Father asked urgently, visibly startled.
Father had told me before. When he was about seven years old, he lost his mother to a bandit raid.
Since wars between territories were frequent when Father was young, bandits were common, but he likely never dreamed they were demon worshippers.
[To be precise, they were men bribed by demon worshippers. It was a time of constant war, so a simple bribe was more than enough. I happened to be in another region at the time... I am truly sorry.]
"...Forget it. It’s in the past. I can only pray that she’s in a better place now. Anyway, where and how did you die? You weren't the type to be taken down easily, Father."
There was a brief moment of solemnity before Father abruptly changed the subject. So many shocking facts were coming out that it was hard to keep up.
Clark took a moment to think after hearing Father’s question, then looked at me. Meeting his gaze, I felt an inexplicable tension and my body stiffened.
Then, he spoke quietly, his voice sounding uncertain.
[Grandson. I heard that in your book, there are these 'Seven Deadly Sins'? High-ranking executives of the demon worshippers? Is that right?]
"Uh... yes, yes. Wrath, Envy, Lust, Pride, Greed, Sloth, and Gluttony. There are seven of them."
[To put it simply, you can assume I slaughtered all those bastards and went down with them.]
"Pardon?"
What kind of monster was he? Even the protagonist, Xenon, struggled to handle just one of the Seven Deadly Sins.
Everyone listening, including myself, was left speechless.
To an ordinary person, it would have sounded like a tall tale, but I had heard from Lina before. There were traces of a violent battle in the underground temple.
I also knew that the summoning ritual had been a half-success, which resulted in me being summoned to this world. And the cause of it all was right in front of me.
While everyone stood there with their mouths agape in shock, Clark tilted his head as if reminiscing about the past, stroking his jaw.
[Actually, there were five, not seven. Their titles were similar to those Seven Deadly Sins things. Despair, Corruption, Lamentation, Regret, and Denial. I don't know how it is now, but back then, they were the Lords—the leaders.]
"You killed all of them by yourself?"
[I used the fact that it was an underground temple to my advantage. The terrain was narrow, so they couldn't use high-output magic. Moreover, the summoning ritual was almost at its end, so they couldn't escape via teleportation. If the space had been wider, I probably could have only taken one or two with me.]
I wasn't sure if I should call that humility. Since the evidence was so clear, it certainly wasn't a lie.
And yet, none of this was known to the world. Above all, as I had seen in my dream, he was a man who had chosen to give up his status as a hero.
All of this led to one question.
Just what kind of mission had our family been given, and what kind of history did we have that Clark would choose to forfeit being a hero?
It sounded like something passed down from generation to generation, yet nothing was known. It was strange.
[Well. Aside from those guys, there was one among the Cardinals, but my grandson and this girl handled him well. Not only that, but their very existence has been exposed, and they’re being wiped out one by one.]
"Um... Grandfather Clark?"
[Hmm? Do you have something to say?]
"Yes. Did the pursuit of the demon worshippers end with your generation?"
[I ended it intentionally. I was sick of it, and the organization I belonged to had been annihilated.]
That confirmed it. It had stopped with Clark, but our family had been hunting demon worshippers from the distant past until recently.
Then for what reason did they start hunting them? Clark had destroyed all the records, but now the man himself was standing before me.
I swallowed hard, feeling a surge of nervous anticipation, and asked in a cautious voice.
"Then... for what reason did our family start hunting demon worshippers in the first place?"
[Are you curious?]
"I can't help but be."
Red hair and golden eyes. An appearance that couldn't help but stand out, coupled with extraordinary talent passed down through generations.
Yet, not a single line was recorded in the history books. Even if only because of the red hair, there should have been at least one mention.
This meant we had operated strictly in the shadows. What could possibly be the reason?
Were we descendants of a Hero, or perhaps the scions of a hidden royal bloodline?
In a situation where history was completely lost and unknowable, Clark opened his heavily guarded mouth.
[We were slaves.]
And the truth that came from his lips...
[Slaves who yearned for freedom.]
...was something I had never even imagined.