Julia's Terrifying Awakening
"Huh? Can't you guys hear it? It's crystal clear. They're screaming about how unfair it is. Cursing the king who cut off their arms and killed them. Wailing for the swords that were stolen from them. How can you not hear any of that?"
"Stop joking around, Julia. You're scaring me..."
"Huh...?"
Only then did Julia's expression harden as she grasped the situation. She could hear voices that no one else could. And they weren't the beautiful songs of spirits, but the deep, resentful wails of ghosts... Something was seriously wrong.
"No, look out the window! You can see them on the street! That old dwarf with the white beard—don't you see him? Wait, both his hands are missing?"
"What are you talking about, Julia? There's no one out there..."
The street Julia pointed to was completely empty. Not even a trace of a white-bearded dwarf could be seen. Realizing that she alone could both hear and see these things, Julia's face went pale.
"Are you seeing hallucinations because you haven't been sleeping enough!?"
"I've been sleeping fine lately. Thanks to Aslan... because of that man..."
"Huh? What does sleeping well with Mister have to do with anything?"
"Ah! Just drop it! It's not important! But am I really seeing hallucinations? That must be it, right?"
Hallucinations. I wished that were the case too. Because I didn't want to believe that Julia had awakened as a necromancer instead of a spirit mage.
'Is this my fault?'
If Julia really had awakened as a necromancer, could I truly say my influence had nothing to do with it? Not a chance. Because of the advice she took from me, the girl who was supposed to awaken as a spirit mage in the story had been tainted by evil and become a necromancer instead. Something like that...
A sudden headache began throbbing in my temples. First, I needed to confirm the facts.
"Julia. Repeat exactly what that old man is saying. Don't leave out a single word."
"He curses the dwarf king who cut off his arms and killed both him and his son. He demands that all the holy swords that were stolen be returned. And... 'Complete the final holy sword, Jacob!' He keeps repeating those words over and over... yo."
"Hah..."
"Why? Whyyy? Do you know something...? yo?"
I did. Of course I did. I'd spent the past few days poring over newspaper clippings day and night. Thanks to that, I had a solid grasp of all the major events from the last hundred years. Since I'd only cleared the first chapter of the game, information was scarce, so I'd had no choice but to gather it this way.
And the old man Julia described was definitely among those records.
"Master Jain. The legendary blacksmith who pioneered the mana fire forging technique. He's also famous for creating six holy swords. But when he refused to sell them to the dwarf royal family, the dwarf king severed his hands to prevent him from completing the seventh and final sword."
"Huuueeh!? So he was a real person? Th-then how did he die...? yo?"
"Jain fled to the empire to pass his techniques on to his son, but assassins tracked him down. He and his son were both murdered, and the six holy swords were stolen along with him. They've been sold off and scattered across the world."
"It's real! It's a real ghost! Why am I the only one who can see this!?"
"Did you recently succeed in manipulating mana? Answer honestly."
"Yesterday... I tried separating the mana like you advised. I got all the way to the final step, but it failed. Nothing happened... yo."
"That was probably the moment you awakened as a necromancer. Whether it's necromancy or spirit magic, the first spell usually manifests as an awakening spell."
"N-necromancer!?"
Julia recoiled in horror. It was the kind of reaction a teenage girl might have upon being told to wash her laundry with her father's.
"No! Why would I be a necromancer!?"
"If you can communicate with the dead, then you're a necromancer. What else would you be?"
"B-but maybe I can't actually talk to them."
"Try speaking to it."
"H-hmph? It won't work, right? It's impossible, right? There's no way I'm a necromancer... Kyaaah!? Our eyes met! Our eyes met! It looked at me! Uwaaaah!!!"
Julia burst into tears and threw herself into my arms. She buried her face against my chest, sobbing and sniffling, clinging to me like a koala and effectively pinning me in place...
'This is turning into a real problem.'
A necromancer who's afraid of ghosts. I hadn't seen that coming at all. Well, the fact that Julia had become a necromancer in the first place was the real accident. She was supposed to befriend cute, sparkly spirits. Instead, she'd come face-to-face with the wailing ghost of a dwarf whose arms had been severed. Of course a young girl would be terrified.
'If it's an unpurified spirit, then it's basically a vengeful ghost, right? Maybe my Touch of Calamity will work on it.'
Since this was my fault, I had to take responsibility. There was no helping it. Julia was too frightened right now, so I'd have to deal with the ghost myself.
"Why me!? Why did it have to be me!? Huuugh!"
"If you're scared, I'll go and destroy it."
"N-no, don't!"
"...?"
Julia grabbed my wrist tightly when I tried to move. What exactly did she want?
"Destroying it would be too cruel... It's already pitiful enough... yo."
"Then what do you suggest?"
"If there's something that needs to be done... then it has to be that, right?"
Julia's eyes gleamed with newfound resolve. What a necromancer was supposed to do was clear: bind the spirits as familiars, convert them into mana, or freely wield the grudges of those who couldn't pass on.
"I should help it resolve its resentment and attain peace... yo."
"...What?"
No. What was she talking about? It seemed Julia didn't understand what being a necromancer actually meant.
...
The shop was dark. Empty bottles rolled across the floor, and the stench of alcohol hung heavy in the air. A young dwarf lay slumped over the table, barely conscious.
Just as his fumbling hand reached for another bottle—
"You there. Come out, shopkeeper."
"This forge is closed! It shut down thirty years ago!"
"Stand up straight. Jacob, grandson of Master Jain."
"...!"
Jacob's eyes snapped open. The alcohol seemed to evaporate from his system in an instant as he straightened his back. That ominous voice. It was one he could never forget—the voice of that scoundrel, Aslan.
"Wh-what is it this time? You already confirmed last time that I have no talent or ability, didn't you? I don't have the skill to forge holy swords like my grandfather!"
Old memories resurfaced, and Jacob began to tremble. The count had once forced him into grueling labor, demanding he forge a holy sword. The problem was, Jacob had only been a one-year-old infant when Master Jain was murdered. He'd grown up knowing nothing about blacksmithing, let alone receiving any techniques. Even when he insisted he knew nothing, the count refused to believe him, convinced he was hiding something. Jacob had only been released after enduring hellish suffering.
That incident had left him with lasting PTSD. Hadn't it all been over back then? Why was this man coming back now? Why couldn't he just leave a worthless dwarf like him—who was busy drinking away his grandfather's legacy—in peace!?
"You're mistaken. As the one who inherited Master Jain's bloodline, you clearly possess the same abilities he did."
"Wasn't that already confirmed ages ago? My mana purity is too low. I can't even imitate mana fire."
"That's just what you think. Your grandfather says otherwise."
"...Excuse me?"
Aslan gestured, and Silvia stepped forward, driving her fist into the wooden floor. While Jacob stammered in shock, she pried up the boards and pulled out a box from beneath. Inside was a longsword missing its hilt. Just an ordinary sword. No holy aura or anything special about it.
"It's an unfinished holy sword. Complete it."
"H-how did you know this was hidden under the floor of our shop...?"
"Do you really need to know that?"
"No, sir. On second thought, I don't think I need to know."
The atmosphere had turned icy, and Jacob's expression grew serious. It was dangerous to dig too deep into a noble's affairs. His father and grandfather had both died for offending the dwarf royal family... Jacob had learned from a young age to keep his head down and stay quiet like a mouse.
"But even if you say that, something impossible is still impossible. Even if you tell me to complete the holy sword out of nowhere, I don't have any way to—"
"There is a way. If you use a mana cultivation method to raise your mana's purity, then as the one who inherited Master Jain's blood, you'll be able to use mana fire without issue. I'll teach you the cultivation method, so get started."
"B-but..."
"Stop hesitating! Because of your grandfather, my slave is trembling in fear right now!"
Jacob froze at the killing intent that radiated from Aslan's outburst. No... he had no idea what this man was even talking about.