Chapter 172
Chapter 172
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 172
Chapter Title: Ghost City (7)
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Mad Ghost.
For a moment, I recalled the hazy, translucent something that had lunged at me in the mansion. That was a ghost?
I'd seen ghosts wandering the cursed lands, stripped of all will and memory. But most were those killed by zombies or skeletons, or frozen to death in the cold, so the ghosts of the cursed lands held no particular power.
What grants ghosts true strength is none other than 'resentment.' Murdered unjustly, dying with grudges unresolved, and so on. Ghosts fueled by resentment grow powerful. It's those that take on near-physical forms and can influence the living.
I hadn't identified 'it' back in the mansion, but considering my memories and the chief's reaction, 'it' was probably...
'...A ghost.'
And not just any ghost, but a 'mad ghost'? Still, something felt off. If it truly was a 'mad ghost' brimming with immense resentment, as the chief claimed...
'...It doesn't make sense that I escaped unscathed, even with my mind lost.'
No matter that Ayla, the shadow wolf, was with me—it still didn't add up. Earthbound spirits can wield terrifying power within their domains.
"...It would help greatly if you could tell me more details."
I spoke in a perfectly calm tone to earn the chief's trust.
"..."
"It's time you told us what happened in that mansion."
After a harsh coughing fit, the chief began his tale, clutching a bloodstained handkerchief.
According to the chief, the 'Dawson couple' were vile sorcerers. They had appeared in the village one day out of nowhere, built the mansion, and settled in. From that day on, bizarre events plagued the village without end. Packs of wild dogs prowled and attacked people. Cats yowled through the nights. Rats infested every home. And that wasn't all—strange pests ravaged the wheat and barley, ruining crops for the first time in over a decade and starting the village's decline.
Sensing something amiss, the chief and villagers went to the couple. Not to accuse them, he said. They were sorcerers, after all. They sought the couple's wisdom.
What the chief and villagers witnessed in the sorcerer couple's mansion exceeded their wildest imaginations.
Vast piles of gold and jewels.
And guarding those treasures, a single dog that looked like it had crawled straight from hell.
"That moment, I realized."
The chief glared at me with his one blazing eye, grinding his teeth.
"That mad couple had sacrificed our village to a demon and gained those immense treasures."
"..."
"Those treasures are ours. The fruits of bleeding our village dry..."
A bubbling cough cut him off for a moment.
"The mad ones cursed the mansion before fleeing. They couldn't bear to leave the treasures behind."
"..."
"Ghosts and hellhounds lurk in that mansion. That's why we can't reclaim our rightful share."
"...So that's the story."
"If you retrieve those treasures for our village..."
"..."
"I'll reward you handsomely. Cough... Enough gold to satisfy anyone."
The chief's one eye gleamed. It burned with hatred, or perhaps boiled with greed.
'...Treasures in that burned-out mansion?'
I pictured the mansion's interior. Lavish, yes—but typical of sorcerers' tastes. It hadn't seemed built on true vast wealth...
That wasn't the only thing nagging me.
'Ghosts aside, I was an intruder too, yet I faced no hellhound attack.'
By the chief's account, the hellhound savagely tore apart and devoured anyone who entered. So why hadn't it come after me? I hadn't even glimpsed its tail.
'Something about the chief's story feels fishy...'
Still, no need to show distrust outright. I nodded lightly and stood.
"Very well. I'll prepare and head to the mansion."
"Be careful... Though with that fine wolf of yours, maybe no need to worry?"
The chief grinned, his gumless teeth twitching over exposed roots. That 'hellhound' clearly gnawed at him. I stroked Ayla's head demonstratively.
"Yes. As you see, Ayla is an excellent wolf. She won't yield even to that 'hellhound.'"
"Good, very good."
We left his house, his coughing fading behind us.
Now I had official permission to investigate the mansion. If villagers picked fights, mentioning the chief would settle it. Things had gotten easier...
'...So why this nagging feeling?'
The chief's explanation wasn't implausible. But it kept snagging like a fishbone in my throat.
"First, we need to learn about the Dawson couple."
I muttered around a skewer of meat from the market. Ah, this chicken skewer would be perfect with some spice. And grilled with green onions in between... Man, makes me crave beer. Frosty, ice-cold beer! Wait, no—Dawson couple talk.
"But, Master. The villagers don't seem likely to tell us properly?"
Elle spoke incredulously, devouring two skewers per hand at terrifying speed.
"You felt it too, huh. Right—the villagers already hate the Dawsons."
"So how will you find out?"
"There's ways."
I finished the last bite, snapped the skewer.
"Send a letter to Khalid."
"That mad ma... Er, the mage from Solen?"
"Yeah. Sorcerer couple—Solen must have records on them."
The couple in the portrait wore Solen Academy signet rings on their pinkies. The academy surely had their info. Objective facts, not village hearsay.
"Letter the moment we get back to the inn."
"Good idea."
Lloyd nodded. We wandered the village a bit before returning to the inn. I'd asked the forest spirit for help, but fog still hung thick as sunset bled into night.
I lit a candle and began writing on parchment. Quick greetings, oh—and tell him how much Legion's grown. Hint at shedding soon...
-Khalid, do you know of the Dawson couple?
The real question.
I wrote requests: Does he know them? If yes, who were they? If not, can he gather info? Drip wax, seal.
-Caw.
The crow in its cage eyed me and the letter alternately. Trained to carry messages, naturally. But it had no legs now. Lost them shuttling between the Crows and Barbason in Dehid.
Birds need more than wings to fly. Legs aid takeoff. This legless crow couldn't even perch properly, let alone balance.
Yet...
"Adapted a bit now?"
I opened the cage; it hopped out. Then, a bit awkwardly, strode straight across the desk.
"Looks good."
Replacing the crow's legs: Bloody Yago I'd implanted in it. A parasitic plant surviving on bloodsucking, usually hosting foxes or raccoon dogs. Folks in old forests spot beasts with flowers on their backs—victims of Bloody Yago.
More symbiosis than parasitism. The host lures small prey with the plant's scent, masks its own odor. Lush growth aids camouflage or stealth.
Native Bloody Yago suits mammals, not birds. But after refining in the Dimensional Garden with Pyuri...
-Thud, thud, thud.
Awkward, but it moved using the stems as legs. Weak still, but extended vines gripped like toes.
Keep its nutrition up, and parasitic Bloody Yago as legs would work fine. Occasional trimming needed, but no issue.
I tied the letter to the crow's leg—er, the Bloody Yago stem acting as leg. Around its neck, a perfectly fitted necklace with green glass. The round green bead glowed faintly with leaf patterns.
"Khalid will recognize this."
-Caw.
"Yeah. First real favor from you. Do your best."
-Caaaaw.
I stroked its head, flung the window wide. It perched on the sill, black eyes on me, then launched powerfully.
"Take care out there, Blackie."
I watched its silhouette vanish into the dark, long after.