Chapter 83
Chapter 83
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 83
Chapter Title: To the Shrine (1)
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"A bit more to the right from there!"
The spirit standing beside me stomped its foot in frustration.
And it had every reason to. The soldiers were digging in a spot other than the one it had indicated.
"No, not there—a little to the left! Yes, yes! Right there!"
At last, they began excavating the proper area.
"Man, how long ago did it rain, and already a landslide..."
The mountain where every tree had burned to ash.
And the relentless downpour spreading fiercely.
The fires were out, but the ground was crumbling.
As a result, the fallen soldiers' bodies had been buried.
Parmon Elder wiped the streaming rainwater from his face and spoke.
"So, when will this rain let up?"
"..."
Truth be told, I had no idea.
The rain ritual had worked too well, unleashing an absurd torrent.
"It might pour for a few more days..."
"That much longer?"
Parmon Elder pondered for a moment, then nodded slowly.
"Won't make much difference."
"More importantly, what's in all those bundles?"
Soldiers were descending the mountain, bundles slung over their shoulders.
"Necromancers' heads."
"...Heads?"
Looking closely, rounded shapes protruded from the bundles.
"Only a handful escaped. We lopped off the rest."
"Even the one who fought that Klein Elder?"
"Roshen smashed the body, and I tore off the head."
These elders got the job done thoroughly.
Not that they could've lost with that level of power.
"How many of the fallen are still unrecovered?"
"Fortunately, not many are buried."
The spirit of the elder I'd first awakened in the castle.
He'd been wandering, pointing out where bodies lay buried.
"We'll make sure to get them all."
Surprisingly, everyone had agreed to recover the bodies.
It honored the dead and bolstered morale.
That was why we were trudging through the rain across the mountain.
"Uncle! Better not go there!"
At my shout, one startled soldier backpedaled.
The reason was simple.
Rumble—
A cascade of earth poured down moments later.
Gazes filled with wonder turned toward me from all around.
"Your senses seem even sharper now."
Indeed, my spiritual sight was growing keener by the day.
Probably because of the ritual I'd just performed.
The name of the possessing deity I'd uttered at the end.
Its aftershocks still tingled through me.
"And you didn't even pass out this time."
"I'm getting the hang of it now."
"Still looks like your body's on the frail side."
To be honest, it wasn't a frail body by any means.
A lifetime as a hunter had toughened it plenty.
It was just that my judge was a Sword Master.
Then, a passing soldier caught my eye.
His face was uncannily familiar.
"Uncle, do you have any departed loved ones nearby?"
"...Saintess? How did you...?"
So it was as I thought...
A few more checks might've confirmed it, but they weren't needed.
The wandering elder's spirit had slipped right over.
"I don't know how you'll take this, but..."
"..."
"Your late father is the one finding the fallen soldiers."
The soldier whipped his head around in shock.
"M-My father... is here?"
"Yes. He's standing to your right right now."
"...!"
The soldier's face and body trembled faintly.
He couldn't bring himself to speak.
Addressing empty air would've felt awkward, too.
"Say whatever you want to him."
Most grieving kin have plenty to say to the departed.
A proper farewell is what they crave.
"..."
-...
His mouth opened and closed repeatedly.
He had volumes to say, but held most back.
Father and son were spitting images.
Not just in looks—their mannerisms matched perfectly.
The elder spirit watched his son just as awkwardly.
"Heavens..."
Time passed in that loop until the soldier finally spoke.
Straightened back.
Firm arms gripping his spear.
Unyielding gaze.
A posture tensed as if for show.
His words were too brief for a final farewell.
"I will protect."
-...!
A single short phrase.
But the elder seemed fully satisfied.
His stern face softened into a warm father's smile.
Clearly proud of his son.
The elder turned to me.
As if he had something to convey.
-...
"Is that enough?"
A nod.
Like father, like son.
The elder's reply was equally succinct.
The soldier watched me quietly, awaiting his words.
"Your father said: 'Do so.'"
"..."
In that instant, the soldier's eyes reddened.
Brief exchange, but laden with meaning for them.
I, a third party, couldn't grasp it all.
"Thank you."
The soldier bowed deeply.
I returned the gesture.
"Even in death, your father helps greatly."
The soldier fell silent for a long while.
Best to give them space.
"Elder, let's go."
"Aye."
Descending with Parmon Elder, we came upon another mourner.
The elder's face darkened in shared grief.
"Count."
"Ah, you."
Count Nordin stood before a charred corpse.
"Sir Heinz. Fine knight he was."
"I met him on the way up the mountain. Already gone by then."
The count bowed to pry free the dagger pinning Sir Heinz's arm.
"Saw you talking with the spirits."
The count had words he wanted to share, too.
But...
"Sir Heinz's spirit isn't here."
"...Taken by necromancer magic?"
"No. He saw you safe and went on his way."
"I see."
Drip, drip—
The count's shoulders sagged in the rain.
Heavy rain, or heavy wet armor?
"Nothing else you're curious about?"
Truthfully, I had little to offer.
But those who lose comrades always wonder.
Did he go peacefully? Any unfinished business?
Yet the count seemed set to bear it alone.
"Sir Heinz's end was surely honorable."
"..."
Soon, soldiers arrived with a stretcher. Sir Heinz's body was laid upon it.
By the count's hands, full of respect.
"If you need comfort, just say. That's my line of work."
"Heh, seeking solace for lost men? It's all on me."
"..."
Even as he spoke, grief brimmed over.
At last, the count clenched his teeth and murmured like an incantation.
"Patience and temperance are a knight's chief virtues."
He needed time alone here, too.
I walked on with the elder.
"Feels rotten."
"War is like that."
"Bastards."
Parmon Elder spoke up.
"Still, glad you're here."
"Pardon?"
"Being able to share unfinished farewells is huge. We never got that."
"It's nothing much. Just passing on words."
"You're doing more meaningful work than I thought."
As the elder spoke, my robed back wriggled.
"Kyak!"
"Luna?"
Swoosh—
Luna poked her head from under the robe, grinning through the rain shelter.
"Down below!"
"Parmon Elder?"
Shake, shake.
"Down below!"
Closel Elder ambled over where her tiny hand pointed.
One hand clutching flowers, the other dangling pouches galore.
Luna, displeased by the rain, ducked back into the robe.
"Looking for you."
"Me?"
Had one of his mages set out on a long journey too?
Thankfully not.
"Check these pouches for me."
"Pardon?"
"Subspace pouches. Can't manage them myself. From the dead necromancers."
Subspace pouches couldn't be handled by others, right?
I vaguely recalled the explanation.
"You rummaged mine last time. Thought of that and came."
Felt like clues might be inside.
One pouch especially caught my eye.
"This one first."
Swipe—
My hand sank straight into the pouch, arm following.
"As I thought, you can. How do you do it?"
Ability to rummage subspace pouches.
Come to think of it, I'd breezed through the elder's barriers too.
"Power of the gods?"
"Convenient answer."
The pouch brimmed with items.
But none pinged my senses as important.
Too cluttered for comfort, I flipped it upside down and shook vigorously.
Clatter, rattle—
Whoosh—
"This much normally fits?"
Whoosh—
Everything imaginable spilled out.
Vials, herbs.
Piles of bones.
Papers and magic reagents.
And among them, a book that jumped out.
"...This it?"
Swipe—
A weathered tome.
Scrawled with unknown script.
Strange characters like drawings or lines.
"Elder, know this writing?"
"Hmm..."
Closel Elder peered closely but shook his head.
A mage of his caliber stumped by script.
"Orc writing."
"Irene? Serena?"
Irene appeared suddenly, scrutinizing the book in my hands.
"Script only special orcs from long ago could read."
"Orcs?"
"I remember seeing it as a child."
Irene as a child...
"Around five hundred years ago."
Special orcs from five centuries past.
One thing sprang to mind.
"Orc shamans, maybe?"
"How do you know that name? They're gone now."
As if.
One hulked right there, grudge unpaid.
"I know an orc like that."