A Free Master and a Soul Stone
A screaming skull.
And this was supposed to be my master’s successor?
Ancestor, what do you think?
[It… has a point.]
What?
My face crumpled in pure disbelief just as Ren opened his mouth.
“So, I heard you don’t have a master right now. Is that right?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“And the Baron’s been looking around, but I heard necromancers have completely dried up these days.”
“That’s…”
I had no idea. I’d never heard that story.
Was Father searching for a necromancer master?
Vilheim was the one who answered.
“That’s right. Strangely enough, every necromancer in the area has vanished. Any idea why?”
“Well, the south never had many necromancers to begin with… but it’s probably because of the kingdom’s western front.”
“The western front?”
“Yeah, you don’t know? The west is in chaos over monsters these days. Head that way and you can get plenty of high-quality monster corpses, so everyone’s flocking there.”
Ah, so that was the reason.
He added that hunting monsters got you materials and combat pay at the same time—two birds with one stone on the battlefield.
And after one big score like that, you can loaf around for a whole year?
As expected, necromancers really were the best!
My pride swelled for a moment—then faded. The real question still hadn’t been answered.
So what exactly did it mean that this skull was my master?
…It was simple.
“This thing may not look like much, but it’s the corpse of a pretty high-level necromancer. Your brother and I killed him not long ago… If you enslave him, his reason will probably still be intact.”
“Ah, so…”
“Enslave him properly and he might make a pretty decent master.”
Oh, that method existed?!
This was why people needed to keep learning. I felt my horizons expanding on the spot.
“So, what’ll it be? Answer however you like. Even for a necromancer, if you’ve only just started, this method can feel pretty repulsive.”
What? Why would this feel repulsive?
A free master?
I didn’t even need to think twice. This was an instant yes.
But first, there was something I had to check.
“But isn’t there a price?”
“Hmm? A price?”
“Yes.”
In any world, nothing came free. That was the iron law of existence.
In other words, working the master might be free, but receiving him would require payment.
Yet for some reason—
“Hmm.”
Instead of answering right away, Ren narrowed his eyes as if weighing something carefully.
That was when Vilheim stepped in.
“Don’t worry about the price. It won’t be anything major.”
“Yeah, little brother doesn’t need to worry. Even if there is a price, it won’t be that hard for your brother—and something of this level I can just hand over as a favor.”
Hmm, really?
I wasn’t particularly fretting over Vilheim, but simply taking something for free still didn’t sit right with me.
Then Ren spoke again.
“Well, fine. Yeah—just take it easy. I’ll give this as a gift.”
“What?”
“I was rude at our first meeting, and giving a gift of this level to a friend’s little brother isn’t that hard.”
Really?
When I stared at him as if asking whether he was serious, Ren simply nodded.
“It’s true. Oh, but as a gift it’s a bit shabby… Fine, I’ll throw this in too.”
“This is…?”
What Ren handed me was a crystal no bigger than a palm.
The moment I saw it, I knew exactly what it was.
“A soulstone?”
Yes—a soulstone.
A gem that crystallizes a soul through magical processing. Of course, what remained inside was never the true spirit, only residual soul fragments.
But this one…
[I don’t know what it is, but it’s quite a powerful soul.]
Yes. This was a considerably strong soul.
“As expected of a necromancer—you recognized it right away. How about it? With that, you could command a fairly excellent undead, couldn’t you?”
“Yes, that’s true, but…”
“Who is it, you ask?”
Ren answered with a bright smile before I could even ask.
“My master.”
“What?”
“Just kidding.”
This… was a joke, right?
“Ah, just so you know—the necromancer in the box was a guy who deserved to die, so don’t feel weird about it.”
“What kind of guy was he?”
“Curious?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember when you last ate?”
“Why is that…”
“It’s not a pleasant story to hear on a full stomach.”
“Then I won’t listen.”
“Wise choice.”
Anyway, he roughly explained that the man had been a complete bastard. So much so that when they raided his laboratory, most of the magic books that turned up were anti-human filth, and the only one worth salvaging was On Death.
But still—
“Why does this one keep screaming? Is it a Lich or something?”
“Oh, you know about Liches? But that guy wasn’t anywhere near good enough to become one. That’s… because of the box.”
“The box?”
“Yeah. Stick a head in there and it holds the soul. Basically turns it into an undead.”
“Aha.”
Truly a mysterious item.
“I’ll give you the box as a gift too.”
“Yes, big brother. Thank you.”
Someone I’d only met today, yet he was remarkably generous.
Of course the soulstone still felt a little creepy…
…It was a joke. Yeah. It has to be.
What kind of lunatic would hand his own master’s soulstone over to a necromancer?
Even if the soul inside was only residual thoughts, traces, or idle fragments rather than the true spirit, anyone with a human heart simply wouldn’t do it.
Anyway.
“So, what now? Shall we head out soon? Vil, what do you think?”
“Let’s leave right away.”
“Shall we? Alright—then go outside and wait a bit.”
With that, Ren vanished somewhere deeper into the house again.
I packed the gifts he’d given me into my backpack and waited quietly.
How much time passed like that?
Bang, kaboom—!
An enormous roar shook the air as flames erupted from the cabin.
What the…
I was just wondering whether I should rush in to save him when Ren walked out of the inferno with a completely nonchalant expression.
“Let’s go.”
What is this.
Why did he burn the house?
Noticing my stare, Ren smiled.
“I packed everything I needed.”
That wasn’t the issue.
Indeed, they say a lot of mages are crazy.
Ren seemed to be the living specimen of that saying—a strange flavor of eccentricity slightly different from Vilheim’s.
How much time passed after that?
We arrived at the inner castle of the territory after roughly the same travel time as the journey out.
“Ren, follow me.”
“Yeah. Little brother… see you later. We’ll be running into each other often enough anyway.”
Hmm. What a dreadful thing to say.
After Ren left to meet Father, I returned to my room.
It was then that the Ancestor, who had been silent the whole way, finally spoke.
[So, what are you going to do?]
“About what?”
[The necromancer and the soulstone.]
“Hmm.”
I had been turning it over carefully on the way back as well.
“First, I should try enslaving the necromancer once.”
[It won’t be easy.]
“There’s a contract procedure a bit stronger than the one I used with you, Ancestor. More coercive, with tighter binding.”
Materials would be the problem, but those I could simply obtain.
The real issue was the soulstone.
“The soulstone… what should I do with it?”
Honestly, even if I’d received it without a word I would have fretted. I had no idea whose soul it had been made from.
But after hearing a joke as hard to swallow as “my master,” the unease only grew.
So what would be best?
[For now, store it and think about it later.]
“What if it really is his master?”
It might not have been a worry fitting for someone planning to turn a dead man into an undead and take him as a teacher, yet this still felt different.
[Even so, that soulstone is yours now. If it truly bothers you, freeing it later is also an option. But…]
“But?”
[I simply want you to understand that obtaining a soul of that caliber is by no means easy.]
“Hmm.”
Yes. That was true.
Well… I can decide later.
Whether it really was Ren’s master or not, handling the soulstone could wait until I’d built more skill. Freeing it or enslaving it—I could choose then.
Anyway.
“Whatever the case, I should wake Master up quickly.”
[Your master seems to have been awake this whole time. Try opening the box. He’ll scream a warm welcome for you.]
“Gah! How dare you speak of my sky-high Master like that!”
Master, please wait just a little longer.
This disciple will restore your reason.
I stroked the tightly sealed box and bowed my head in reverence.
Meanwhile, in Baron Falaon’s study.
The Baron blinked as he regarded the young mage seated before him.
“So, your name is…?”
“Bioren.”
“Bioren, Bioren…? Could it be that your master’s name was Silvanis?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“Hah!”
The Baron exclaimed in surprise and burst into laughter.
“What a coincidence this is! To think Vilheim’s friend was Silvan’s disciple! So, how is Silvan doing? Is he well? Still the same personality?”
Silvanis.
The man Baron Falaon remembered had been an outstanding mage and a cheerful comrade—a true mage who never lost his smile even on battlefields where death was certain, and who somehow always found a path through.
At the unexpected news of an old war buddy, the Baron smiled as though he had returned to his youth.
The answer that came back, however, was far from pleasant.
“Master has passed away.”
“What? Silvan? How…?”
“It was an accident during an experiment. Ah, no need for that face. He still left smiling, after all.”
“Ah, is that so. That friend… Hoo, yes. I understand. It’s regrettable, but since he left smiling, that’s fortunate.”
The Baron forced himself to shake off the sorrow. Grieving in front of a friend’s disciple who had already set the grief aside would have been improper, and a comrade’s death was something he had long grown used to.
He would offer his condolences alone later, over a quiet drink.
Once he had composed himself, a question rose.
“Looking at your reaction, it seems coming to our territory wasn’t a coincidence. Am I wrong?”
“Well, becoming friends with Vil was a coincidence, but yes—coming to the Falaon territory was not. More precisely, Master left words for me.”
“What did he say?”
“If anything happened to him, or if I ever felt lonely living alone after he was gone, I should go to the Falaon territory. He said there would be work I might need there. And when I arrived, that proved true. Did Master perhaps know about the mineral vein as well?”
“I never told him directly… but he was a clever friend, so he might have figured it out. Yes—just as he said, our territory is in need of a mage. So, what will you do?”
“My decision was already made the moment I resolved to meet the Baron. I will work for the Falaon territory.”
Baron Falaon nodded as though he had expected nothing less.
“Of course you’ll need compensation. What do you want?”
“When the magic-stone mine is successfully developed later, please invest in my magic tower.”
“You… were you affiliated with a magic tower?”
“Not yet.”
“Then?”
“I plan to establish one myself. If the Baron’s magic-stone mine development ends successfully, and if the Baron keeps today’s promise, it shouldn’t be that difficult. In exchange, until that day comes, I will serve Falaon with everything I have.”
“Your confidence is remarkable. So… invest the present for the future?”
“Yes.”
Ren answered without the slightest hesitation.
And he was certain: given the current state of the Falaon territory, they would have no choice but to accept his proposal.
The Baron’s answer, however, was unexpected.
“I refuse.”
“…What?”
“Instead, how about this.”
The Baron held out a sheet of paper with writing on it.
“This is… what is it?”
“What else? The contract terms.”
“I know that, but…”
The terms were, how to put it—noticeably lower than average.
Surely he didn’t mean to contract under these conditions?
“Wouldn’t it be better for you to work while receiving some compensation rather than laboring indefinitely? We can discuss investment in the magic tower after that. Hmm? How about it.”
“Well, even so…”
“Don’t like it? Hmm—then we’ll have to pretend this never happened. You worked hard coming here.”
“No… that…”
Ren couldn’t finish the sentence.
And for good reason: the Baron’s proposal was outright a thief’s mentality.
Measuring present labor cheaply under the pretext of a future magic tower, then discussing that investment separately later?!
If the Baron simply wiped his mouth clean when the time came, Ren would have done nothing more than serve at bargain rates.
Yet Ren realized something crucial.
The moment he had revealed his true intentions, the initiative of the deal had already passed to the other party.
And it wasn’t as though he could simply go find another investor now. Finding a noble willing to pour money into a money-eating hippo called a “magic tower” was never easy to begin with.
So this is what he meant.
Master’s words rose in his mind.
Master had once said of Baron Falaon:
—A curious specimen and a good friend. However…
…not a friend who is merely kind.
Indeed, just as those words had said.
In the end, the present Ren had no real choice.
“I will accep…t it. Instead, please add a clause stating that we will seriously discuss investment in the magic tower later.”
“Haha, of course.”
The Baron was smiling brightly.