Chapter 28
Chapter 28
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 28
Chapter Title: The Starry Sky is Said to be the Tears of God (5)
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“…….”
[……. ]
Pippin and Manhole’s gazes bore into me like daggers. Ignoring them both, I spoke again.
“Money’s no object. Whether it’s magic beasts or people, name your price. I’ll pay any cost. Honestly, I don’t have much of a conscience anyway.”
“Hahahahaha!”
Tenerife burst into roaring laughter. It was the kind of hearty guffaw you’d hear watching a comedy show.
“Looks like you know your own skills are lacking.”
Tenerife raised an arm and pointed at my Garden Armadillo. The creature shrank back, tilting its upper body toward the ground and hiding behind me.
“You want me to teach someone who manages their Garden Armadillo like that?”
“That’s exactly why you have to teach me.”
With all sincerity, I shouted.
“So teach me! Master! Be my master starting today!”
Tenerife erupted in laughter once more. It was a reaction of sheer bewilderment, but she still hadn’t outright refused.
“Master, what on earth are you saying? Isn’t she a total stranger? It’s dangerous to show that kind of favor to someone you just met.”
“That’s rich coming from you. If we’re splitting hairs, this is the first time I’ve met you too.”
“Uh……. But you’re different, Master…….”
“Yeah, I’m different, right? So it’s fine for me to greet that one—er, Master—however I please.”
“Uh…….”
I took a step toward Tenerife. She didn’t seem fazed, but the wolves on either side of her reacted viciously. They bared their bloodstained fangs with threatening growls. I forced myself to ignore the sounds and examined them closely.
The more I looked, the more differences I spotted. They weren’t identical. Teide was a bit smaller, but its teeth were much sharper, and its expression fiercer.
Both had silvery fur that gleamed with luster. Definitely not something you’d call a Garden Armadillo.
And two of them at that. It meant Tenerife’s Gates of Death numbered two, or more. She must command a vast number of spirits as well.
“I’ve got a ton of questions. What exactly is a necromancer? What techniques can they use? If I just learn the skills, can I do it all too? Where’s the best place to catch spirits? What makes a good spirit?”
Pippin grabbed me and yanked me back. Once I started asking, I couldn’t stop.
“Can my Garden Armadillo turn into a wolf too? Or is it a totally different species?”
[Oh, I’m curious about that too.]
My Garden Armadillo wagged its stubby tail.
“You’re an unusual human. But my answers are limited.”
With a fluid motion, Tenerife drew something from within her cloak. The moment the metallic gleam caught the light, Pippin shoved me aside and charged forward.
“Pippin!”
Clang! With a sharp ring, Pippin and Tenerife were forced apart. Despite his wounds, Pippin regained his footing more steadily than her—maybe even better. The berserker’s stamina clearly outclassed the necromancer’s.
Tenerife kept her sly smile as she shed her cloak. Before it hit the ground, Canary leaped up, snatched it in its jaws, and held it like a puppy with a toy.
“I know how to become a great necromancer. I’m the last heir of the only family granted the right to interfere with the Ghost Gates. No proper necromancers remain besides me. The foolish Noamaz Empire hunted them down and killed them all.”
“Ooh.”
“A punk like you would need the Black Eyes skill just to make contact with spirits. Luckily, spirits refined through a Garden Armadillo are visible even without it.”
“Ooh! So that’s why I could see Phoibe.”
“I don’t need that. My naked eyes are enough. Anyone not of the Rust family is just an ordinary person without skills—they can’t see or touch spirits.”
“Ooh!”
That alone was invaluable instruction. As I stood there exclaiming in awe, my Garden Armadillo tugged at my clothes with its teeth.
[This isn’t the time to be impressed! Let’s go back! I said let’s go back!]
Tenerife advanced toward me slowly, gripping her dagger tightly as if ready to stab. Pippin blocked my path, raising his serrated blade.
“To find the Witch’s Apostle—talk about lucky. I was planning to focus on claiming the Witch’s Dragon for a while. But things are falling into place so easily. As thanks, I’ll kill you quickly, so don’t worry!”
Tenerife lunged in an instant. Pippin rushed to protect me, but the wolf was faster. Teide tackled him, pinning him down with its weight. Pippin struggled beneath the massive wolf.
With Pippin’s guard open, Tenerife closed in swiftly. Like a slasher from a movie, she plunged her dagger toward my chest.
I toppled backward to dodge, grabbing Manhole’s leg. Manhole wrapped its tail around me, hoisted me up, and bolted.
“Whew! Haha! Nearly died in the dumbest way! Didn’t see that coming!”
[You’re laughing right now? Are you seriously laughing?!]
Manhole, racing toward the opposite side of the forest, screeched to a halt—screeeeech. Canary stood in our path, legs splayed wide. Bloody foam dripped from its maw. It was grotesque, a perfect demonstration of why wolves are apex predators.
[Owner. I don’t wanna turn into something like that.]
Manhole whined.
“But…….”
I was about to say you already look scarier, when a dark shadow loomed over us. I glanced back—a spirit was pouncing.
Kwaaa! A multi-limbed spirit rained down on me and Manhole.
But just before it could tear into us, it let out a bizarre ‘Kieee!’ and tumbled aside. My swarm of black ants had arrived.
“Sugar! Sweeties!”
In my panic, I shortened their names on the fly.
[Sugar Lord’s Decree: Devour for the owner.]
[Sweet Swarm’s Decree: Devour devour devour!]
While the swarm clashed with the spirit, Manhole twisted away. I adjusted from my awkward dangling position and properly mounted Manhole.
“Running away is no fun.”
Spirits kept pouring from Tenerife’s hemline. It was a human wave attack like no other.
The dark spirits took forms of magic beasts, or even warriors and archers in human shapes. Fortunately, my swarm excelled at overwhelming with numbers.
They could defend by swarming attackers, tearing, flailing, and binding their movements.
“Where’d you catch so many spirits?”
I bellowed. Tenerife didn’t answer, charging at me instead. Manhole flailed its legs desperately and fled.
Trying to escape the forest brought Canary’s pursuit and danger.
In the end, we could only circle the clearing like idiot goldfish.
Tenerife gave up chasing on foot, standing rigidly in place and summoning spirits with gestures. From atop Manhole, I stood to observe her every move.
I wanted to see exactly where the spirits emerged from her clothes and how she summoned them.
[You idiot! Duck down! How can you keep staring at that necromancer?!]
The Garden Armadillo bounced around, bawling.
[I wanna be unsummoned!]
I gripped its horn, shaking along with it, but kept my eyes locked on Tenerife.
As expected, the two wolves were her combat assets. Unlike how I used Manhole—my Garden Armadillo—as a Gate of Death, hers had a strong “familiar” vibe, directly controlled for battle.
Instead, the jewels adorning her hem performed the Garden Armadillo’s role. Gems of varying colors, shapes, and sizes—they were pouches holding spirits. Like the jars in Journey to the West that sucked in yokai.
She’d absorbed the Necropadas spirit that way earlier.
Maybe I could do the same. Then I could command spirits separately while using Manhole for transport—endless strategic possibilities.
[I’m done running now! Ughaaaaah!]
I gritted my teeth. Yeah, this war of attrition needed to end fast.
First, deal with those wolves.
In our ragtag team, Pippin was the only real fighter. The ant spirits were holding their own against the others, so leave them be.
Manhole and I were dead weight. No combat ability to speak of—we were best as decoys right now.
To win, Pippin had to face Tenerife directly. But he was tied up with the wolf. Even one-on-one with Teide was pushing him.
Canary herded us like sheep, occasionally dashing to aid Teide.
Pippin’s rage trait lowered his accuracy. Without a critical hit, the fight would drag. It heavily favored the exhausted Pippin otherwise? No, the opposite.
“I need to figure out where Tenerife summoned Teide and Canary from.”
Then Pippin could switch to fighting her.
Thanks to Manhole and the ant spirits’ efforts, I bought time to think. Tenerife’s arrogant taunts—avoiding lethal strikes—helped too.
I was hoping for it, but as a necromancer, she probably wasn’t used to close combat. She seemed cautious now. Pippin had the edge there, and without spirits, even I could mix it up.
“Like spirits trapped in jewels, maybe the Gates of Death come from jewels too.”
I muttered, gripping Manhole’s horn.
“Can you dodge while getting a bit closer to Tenerife?”
[What? Not running? What’s your deal with me?!]
“Good boy! Let’s try. You can do it. We’re the same species, right? Gotta get along with your own kind!”
[You don’t even get along with your own human kind! Eeeeek!]
Manhole grumbled but dashed where I directed. Caught off guard by my sudden approach, the spirits flinched. The ants surged to protect me.
Even the ever-composed Tenerife took half a step back.
Yeah, playing it safe? As long as I’m on Manhole, no confidence in a brawl?
“Tired of just dodging? It’d be easier to die quick.”
Tenerife threatened with a smile. No time to mind my expression, I scanned her clothes meticulously. Jewels everywhere—utter chaos. Too many types.
“A bit more, just a bit more…….”