Chapter 22
Chapter 22
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: Complicated Worldly Affairs, Even Here It's Complicated (4)
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At that moment, the farmer uncle's urgent voice came from behind.
"Wa... wait!!"
"Yes?"
The farmer uncle's expression was far from normal.
It was the face of someone who had seen something unbelievable.
And yet, he was cautiously peering over here.
The uncle's eyes, who had been closely examining the wraith, trembled violently.
"Co... could it be... Hans?"
In an instant, the wraith's eyes turned toward the uncle.
"Ah...!"
I could see the uncle's face grow dazed as their eyes met.
Just like a ghost, it bewitched a person first thing.
"Hey! Don't look away? You little stray ghost, trying to bewitch people."
I blocked the wraith's ghostly energy, but the uncle already seemed bewitched.
His unfocused eyes blankly stared into empty space.
"...The problem with seeing ghosts is stuff like this."
As I cut off the flow of spiritual energy, focus returned to the uncle's eyes.
"I... what just happened to me..."
"You got bewitched, Uncle. You can't just lock eyes with a ghost carelessly."
Seeing how dazed he was from just a brief bewitchment, this uncle didn't seem to have strong spiritual energy either.
"More importantly, did you say Hans? Do you know him?"
"It was blurry, so I couldn't see clearly..."
He could just look again to confirm, but the uncle's eyes were directed completely elsewhere.
I told him not to make eye contact, but I didn't expect him to avert his gaze entirely.
For someone who just encountered an evil spirit, he seemed overly scared.
When it came to scary appearances, our house's Headless was far more terrifying.
"I've blocked it, so it's safe to look now."
The uncle's eyes, filled with fear, turned back toward the wraith.
"I-It is! It's Hans! They said he went missing not long ago...!"
If he went missing recently, that meant he died not long ago too...
But the grudge emanating from him was too intense to have built up in such a short time.
"Could you explain in a bit more detail?"
"That's all I know. One day, he suddenly didn't come home..."
"Was this Hans guy particularly greedy, by any chance?"
"No way. There aren't many folks as simple as Hans."
A simple man?
And yet he became a land-bound spirit overflowing with greed like this?
The grudge needed to become a land-bound spirit was on a whole different level from ordinary stray ghosts.
It required something like fanatical obsession or hatred toward something.
"Maybe you had the wrong idea about him?"
"We've lived together in the barony all this time. How could that be..."
The uncle kept glancing over at Hans, who had become a monster, with pity.
His face was filled with fear.
"Hmm..."
He didn't seem to be lying either.
"This is strange..."
The soul's condition was perfectly clean too.
He hadn't been stabbed to death by someone, and it was ambiguous to call it a traveler's death.
He had truly become a land-bound spirit in a short time from nothing but greed.
There might be some story that could lead to that, but something felt off.
Even scenes flickered faintly in my mind as if divination was about to activate.
"Irene, could you have the gnome dig up the ground a bit?"
At Irene's call, the gnome appeared and bowed to me.
I had no idea why it always greeted me first instead of its contractor.
"Gnome! There's something under there. Can you dig until it comes out?"
The gnome nodded, glared sharply at the wraith, and then paused.
Its turned face seemed to say, 'Do I really have to dig this up?'
Just as I felt displeasure from the wraith, the gnome seemed to feel the same.
"Please."
Nod.
The ground began to be dug up by the gnome.
The wraith started thrashing, but what could it do?
It was already a land-bound spirit that had lost its home.
Soon, a white object emerged from where the gnome had dug.
It was a person's hand bone.
Clutching what looked like a doll for a child.
"Is there nothing else?"
Seeing the gnome shake its head, it seemed only the hand was buried underground.
What kind of situation would leave just a person's hand buried alone like that?
From the story, it was definitely recent death, but the bone was crumbly as if ages had passed.
And a foul stench emanated from beside it.
"Well, now."
Something was half-embedded in the ground.
A black stone engraved with twisting letters and shapes.
A reaction immediately burst from Old Man Closel.
"It's necromancer mana."
"Necromancer?"
A sinister energy emanated from the stone.
It felt like every kind of negative energy had been crammed into it.
Old Man Closel, examining the stone, looked up.
"I've never seen an artifact like this. But from the formula, it seems related to the wraith."
I could feel it too.
All the wraith's yin energy was flowing from this stone.
At the same time, the emotions were twisted.
I had definitely felt this energy before.
Realizing the identity of this object, I spat out a curse.
"These rotten bastards... laid a Curse Anchor?"
There was something similar to the spells shamans use.
It's mainly a method used when cursing someone.
The method is so cruel that it's taboo even among shamans.
They drive a person to the brink and extract intense emotions.
The more negative the emotions, the greater the effect.
Hunger, hatred, greed—anything works.
The medium that gathers those negative energies is the 'Curse Anchor', and casting the curse is called 'releasing the slaughter'.
What I felt from this stone was exactly that.
The difference was that it used mana to induce the phenomenon.
Instead of cursing someone, it corrupted a perfectly fine soul.
I heard Old Man Parmon's lament.
"It must have been a doll for his child..."
That doll seemed to be the emotional medium.
Right before losing his life, Hans must have clutched the doll he was going to give his child.
He probably regretted the gift he couldn't deliver and thought of his child.
That feeling had been viciously twisted by the stone.
Into filthy greed, no less.
By cutting off the hand and placing it beside the Curse Anchor.
"Haa..."
Anger boiled up at the horrific act.
The wraith hadn't formed naturally; it was an artificially created evil spirit.
At the same time, a pitiful lost soul.
One I couldn't even figure out how to restore to its original state...
I pulled the stone from the ground.
"Tsk tsk..."
As I pulled out the stone, the yin energy flowing from the wraith weakened significantly.
But since it had already taken root, it would probably have to stay that way.
"I need to find a way."
The old men and Irene were discussing with serious expressions.
"It could be a necromancer operating independently."
"It'd be best to confirm precisely. I'll contact my magic tower."
Old Man Closel approached me.
"Give that to me. I'll track the necromancer."
"No. There's still work to do."
If this stone was acting as a Curse Anchor, the necromancer had picked the wrong opponent.
When it came to curses or releasing slaughter, that is.
You always pay back several times over.
Where there's cause, there's retribution.
"Laying a Curse Anchor in front of a shaman?"
This time, feel the sting of a retaliatory curse from one.
Closel held a communication orb in his hand.
- We will proceed as instructed.
"I'm counting on you."
His face was rigidly set as he turned toward Parmon.
"Fortunately, they say there are no particular signs."
Not long ago, a group of goblins had appeared near the territory.
Closel had immediately dispatched knights to investigate.
Monsters appearing near the county wasn't ordinary.
Parmon's face was as hardened as Closel's.
"Rosel, what do you think? Do you really believe necromancers are making a move?"
"We'll have to wait and see..."
"What a coincidence..."
Bad premonitions tend to come true more often than not.
Parmon hoped his intuition was wrong.
But it was too coincidental.
The sudden monster appearance, Irene coming to find Chris following the World Tree's will.
And now the traces of a necromancer they discovered.
Even the World Tree's condition was abnormal, wasn't it?
"When was the last time their traces were found?"
"About 40 years ago, I think. But it's still unknown. It could be a mage who dabbled in forbidden magic."
Parmon swallowed a groan and spoke.
"If they've truly reemerged..."
Closel's eyes widened.
"Then I'll have to reclaim the name I abandoned."
"Heh heh..."
A brief silence settled between them.
Closel spoke first.
"Seeing it in person is fascinating."
"What is?"
"What Chris does. It must have been frustrating for you, never seeing it with your own eyes."
"Heh heh..."
It was something both had always wondered about.
Just what did Chris see, and how far did his knowledge extend?
"He handled that wraith like a toy."
Closel's words carried a disbelieving chuckle.
It couldn't be helped.
Ghost-type monsters were extremely tricky to deal with.
Countless knights and soldiers had fallen helplessly before wraiths and banshees.
Only those who could use mana could even stand a chance.
Yet he subdued a wraith without using mana...
"He lifted the object, but no traces of magic."
"And it wasn't swordsmanship this time either."
"If this gets out, the magic world will turn upside down. A new form of power."
Both old men's gazes turned toward Chris, who was diligently polishing the rattle from afar.
Was it the wisdom of age?
Something felt like it was about to unfold around that boy.
"I should contact my granddaughter... keh keh."
"I already told mine."