Chapter 27
Chapter 27
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 27
Chapter Title: They Say the Stars in the Night Sky Are God's Tears (4)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The man stroked the scruffs of the two wolves' necks and took a step toward us. Pippin and I retreated by the same distance. Death's Gate didn't back off, instead staring fixedly at the man with its mouth agape. Gloomy smoke trickled out from between its teeth.
[Scent of home.]
The two wolves threw their heads back and let out long howls. The man took another step forward. He stared intently at my Death's Gate, then furrowed his brow slightly.
"You've got a pathetic master. To be in such a starved state. And your appearance is a total mess."
"Who the hell are you?"
The man replied with a fake smile, his tone gentle.
"Tenerife. The sole apostle of the Corpse Devourer. Just like you."
Corpse Devourer? Apostle? I had no idea what he was talking about.
The ferocious wolves approached the man called Tenerife. They wagged their tails languidly, looking just like puppies. It was impossible to believe they were the same beasts that had bared their fangs at us moments ago—they seemed utterly docile.
What the hell is this guy?
=================
Name: Tenerife Rust
Class: Necromancer
Personality: Lust - Great curiosity toward people; favorability rises and falls dramatically.
Trait: Resonance - Continuously receives mana from a beloved master.
=================
Even reading the description, it was impossible to guess his true identity.
Naturally, there was no favorability yet.
"Master. That guy's no ordinary fellow. I don't sense any hostility, but something's off. I can't quite put my finger on it, but it's weird."
Pippin, with his sharp instincts, was on guard too.
"I think the same. People with a fishy first impression never turn out decent."
I backed away slowly, gauging the timing for escape. Could I turn around casually? Would it be safe to show my back to this stranger?
Making polite goodbyes and leaving would be ridiculous in this situation.
Unlike me, sweating coldly from tension, Tenerife leisurely petted the wolves' heads. He didn't seem bothered at all by their bloodstained muzzles.
*Enemy or not.*
My response would depend on the answer. But more fundamentally, could I even stand a chance against this guy?
The wolves that Tenerife called Teide and Canary— Death's Gate had referred to them as 'kin.' If that was true, then Tenerife was a necromancer too.
And a far stronger one than me. A real necromancer.
Tenerife had two garden wraiths, both impeccably groomed compared to my pathetic ones. Their nature was aggressive. The agility to pounce on a beast in an instant, the sharp fangs that could chew through thick hide.
On top of that, Tenerife himself didn't look like a pushover.
In games, the ones decked out in flashy clothes were usually high-level. This guy definitely fit the bill. Like an idol who jumped off stage mid-performance. With his slightly crazed eyes, more like a drunk idol.
*First necromancer I've seen besides myself.*
Curiosity and wariness swirled inside me. I hesitated, unable to back down easily. The ugly horn of my garden wraith nudged my side.
[Master. You okay? You're tense, right? Are we in danger?]
Yeah. Let's pull back for now.
I'd never heard the name Tenerife while playing the game. He couldn't be the protagonist. Probably just a passing 'powerful traveler' type character.
No need to stick my neck out and take risks right now.
"Pippin, Manhole. Time to head b—"
The moment I decided to retreat, Tenerife looked up. His leisurely gaze sent a chill down my spine for some reason. He stroked the growling wolves and slowly opened his mouth.
"I thought it wasn't time to step in yet, but this works out even better."
His soft voice sounded almost like praise, gentle to the point of being syrupy.
"You there, amateur necromancer. Where's the Witch of Illusions?"
"What's that?"
I tried to hide my tension and answered curtly.
"That's no fun. You have no talent for jokes."
"I'm not using joke talent right now anyway. I don't know what the Witch of Illusions is, and I don't know what you are either."
I emphasized, adding,
"And I don't want to know."
He seemed to be mistaking me for someone else. He was looking for some Witch of Illusions or whatever, but it had nothing to do with me.
Besides, it didn't seem like he was searching for her in a good way.
I could tell instinctively. Pippin said he sensed no hostility, but my eyes—dull as they were—could see it.
The kind of guy whose eyes spin like that, gets drunk, and suddenly picks a fight with the next table over. I'd seen dozens like him working at the barbecue joint.
And among them, this one's glimpse of madness stood out.
"You show up out of nowhere, slay a dragon, hunt a witch... Yeah, you're definitely weird, but don't tell me."
Observing Tenerife closely, I realized something.
"You're the necromancer who gave a garden wraith to mercenaries."
At the same time, I recalled what the mercenary had said while grabbing Kaku.
'We trusted your word and brought that lunatic along!'
I'd brushed it off then, but now it fit. Kaku had hired a necromancer for the money. But the necromancer turned out to be a total psycho, so he washed his hands of it.
The remaining mercenaries, clinging to hopes of profit, fed beasts to the garden wraith to bulk it up, leading to this mess.
"Right. I had extras at home, so I gave one away."
Tenerife answered nonchalantly, like he'd given away a puppy.
I need to run. I need to run.
But curiosity was killing me. Ignoring Pippin's subtle tug on my wrist, I pressed on.
"Were you after the money too?"
"I don't need money."
"The mercenaries fed beasts to the garden wraith for profit. I don't get why a garden wraith that ate beasts would make money. You know, right? The reason."
Tenerife grinned broadly, seeming delighted.
"I don't know why I should tell you, but I'm in a good mood since I met you. What I wanted was the Necrophagas. Among dragons, it's the most mysterious beast. There are few ways to catch a Necrophagas. Ransack the Hermit's Land yourself, or wait for it to be drawn out by the madness of a rampaging garden wraith. Obviously, the second is more efficient."
"You don't mean you tricked the Sloth Mercenaries into bursting the garden wraith?"
"That sums it up."
A hollow laugh escaped me from the absurdity. Not that I had room to talk after threatening to kill Pippin, but Tenerife was straight-up evil.
"The mercenaries you duped even fed it people! How could you even think of that? Are you insane?"
"Nothing's more important than slaying the witch's dragon. You can't fuss over every human death or it'll never end. Don't you get that?"
This guy's a real lunatic.
"Master. If you're angry, should I handle him? My sawblade's still usable."
Pippin chimed in softly. The stench of blood from him was overpowering. He'd taken a bad hit but didn't know when to pull back, the idiot. With a personality that didn't pick its battles, Pippin would've died soon without me.
I extended my arm to block Pippin, then backed away slowly.
"We should get going."
"Why?"
As expected, Tenerife wasn't about to let us leave easily.
"Aren't you disappointed? Don't you want to go after your master's second apostle, the Illusion Dragon Necrophagas?"
Tenerife spread his arms wide. The gem inside his robe hem vibrated as if about to shatter, emitting a dark crimson light. The light and smoke from the gem transformed into a massive death spirit. It was the Necrophagas from earlier.
The dragon roared with a completely different aura from when it was alive. A scream that tore at the ears. As a death spirit, perhaps, its eye sockets were hollow, and a sinister aura enveloped its entire body.
The dragon somehow looked like it was crying.
The Necrophagas had nothing to do with me. I couldn't understand most of what Tenerife said, and I didn't care. But something lodged deep in my heart.
The tiny hand flipping open the bestiary to show me 'Necrophagas.' Those bright light-green eyes sparkling.
Right, the Necrophagas is...
"Dahlia's dream lizard."
Sorry, little sis, but catching that lizard for you seems tough.
"Don't look so bummed. It was a beast beyond your level anyway."
Tenerife scratched at my pride under the guise of comfort. Though my brow furrowed, I didn't retort impulsively. Reacting on wounded pride is for third-raters. The old regular at the barbecue joint had drilled that life truth into me every time he got drunk.
And it was sound advice.
Right now, I was just a rich greenhorn. Few skills, and my death spirits were just well-fed ants and the glutton beside me serving as their anthill.
"You seem different. Strong enough to dispatch the Necrophagas easily?"
"Dispatched sounds tacky. But if you have to put it that way, yes."
Tenerife's voice carried unwavering confidence and conviction.
"I am strong."
The straightforward answer pleased me greatly. The corners of my mouth twitched. Though tense enough to chill my spine, I couldn't hide the anticipation.
The anticipation that this guy could improve my half-baked skills.
Necromancers were shunned across the continent. The original Sierra had wasted her life hiding her true class, learning crappy magic. She'd swallowed tears under labels like 'weak mage' and 'half-assed beast slayer.'
I had no intention of repeating Sierra's mistakes. I wouldn't hide being a necromancer just because it wasn't welcomed. I needed to grow strong. I wanted to.
Unlike the foolish original Sierra wasting time on fireworks circus tricks, I wanted to learn proper necromancy. Sierra wasn't talentless—just unskilled. Mastering necromancy would make her the continent's true powerhouse.
To protect my sister. To elevate her higher. I had to become a necromancer.
A proper one.
And right now, it felt like I'd found the right ally.
"Master. The mood's getting dangerous. Let me handle th—"
Pippin whispered like a ventriloquist.
[Master, something's off. Let's head back. I'm not even hungry anymore.]
Manhole started whining, sensing the ominous vibe too.
The two wolves fawning at Tenerife's side shifted stances. Their master was utterly relaxed, but the wolves assumed attack positions without any command. That must mean their resonance with him.
"Hey, you. Tenerife, right?"
"Yeah. Tenerife Rust. Good to remember."
"Tenerife. You know all about garden wraiths, and you turned the Necrophagas into your death spirit in a flash. Yeah, it's obvious. You're no ordinary necromancer."
"Is that praise? Thanks."
"So, here's the thing."
Nothing to lose, and sales come from talking.
"Wanna be my master?"