The Price of Ignorance (2)

“B-but it’s nighttime…”

“Why don’t you try saying that to the ones who already died?”

I had already turned my back, so I couldn’t see Dumpling’s or the mage’s faces. Even so, I thought I caught the sound of someone swallowing hard.

“…I’ll go as well.”

“Oh dear, oh dear… making an old man feel ashamed.”

Well. I’d have been fine operating solo, but of course they were party characters. Somehow we always ended up traveling together.

“Hero? Sage…?”

“Haha. We’re grateful for Your Excellency’s consideration, Bishop, but I’m afraid my friend here is not the sort of ‘irresponsible’ man who would use fatigue as an excuse to rest with a demon right under his nose.”

Meanwhile, the Sage’s talent for politely eviscerating people was no joke. That kind of dig should have cost them face too, yet he tore into the priests who’d tried to hold us back with tiredness as their pretext without the slightest hesitation.

“That’s…!”

“An old man mustn’t hold anyone back. Come now—let us be off.”

“…Yes!”

At the Archmage’s words, the Inquisitor lit up like a child granted permission and hurried to my side. Ridiculous—but she was cute, so I decided to let it slide.

“Well then… first we uncover the demon that has slipped into town.”

They tried to detain us a little longer, but in the end the three of us left the temple and began searching the village.

With no fixed destination, we were still wandering without much direction—but if I thought of it as learning the map, it wasn’t entirely useless.

“Perhaps we should hear more from the witne—”

“Unnecessary.”

I cut the Archmage off and focused on the smells. As I recalled, the Draugr’s defining trait was its overwhelming stench.

Back when this was a regular PC game, it had just been a speech bubble saying “There’s a strange smell.” In VR, I’d have to actually smell it out and tell the difference myself.

“D-do you have some idea what manner ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of demon this might be?”

That question was a little harder to ignore outright. They were allies—should I share information? But would my concept’s personality ever deign to share?

Besides, it was a bit ridiculous for a so-called Sage not to know a single demon. Judging by his expression, he already knew and was asking on purpose.

Well, you couldn’t just leave a player without base knowledge in the dust, so guiding them to figure it out themselves made sense. A game was supposed to be player-driven, after all.

“I have no reason to play with an intellect that does not even know this much.”

So I settled for a line that fit the concept. Beside me, Dumpling made a small startled sound—but she was cute, so I let that slide too.

“…Might I hear your insight?”

Still, the Inquisitor was the sort of cleric who wasn’t ashamed of her ignorance.

She asked with a slightly hesitant voice that quickly grew firm. In her green eyes burned the clear resolve to carve the answer into her memory.

“I find it hard to believe you are the Hero.”

“I know I am unreliable, but please refrain from blasphemous remarks.”

Ah—so even if you don’t believe in me, believe in God? Truly a cleric with zero flexibility.

“So what kind of demon has infiltrated the town?”

She was persistent, too. I turned my head with irritation.

“…A Draugr.”

“A Draugr… I see! Yes—if it’s a Draugr, that would explain everything.”

So she at least knew what a Draugr was. The Inquisitor’s eyes brightened at once.

“As expected of a demon-hunting specialist. To identify it the moment you hear of it…”

No—judging by that pleased smile behind me, the mage knew as well. At this rate I was going to become a party NPC without doing anything at all.

The thought made my lips twitch. I bit them hard. Holding back a laugh was already hard; holding it back without anyone noticing was harder still.

I hastily dragged up something grim or serious. That usually killed a smile on the spot.

“Then we should seek out places where the stench is thick. Would we not?”

Conveniently, a topic light enough to think about was right there.

“If there is a graveyard, investigating it would be wise. I have heard that Draugr are born from graves.”

“The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Inquisitor is well informed.”

“I could never compare to the Sage and the Demon Knight.”

In the original, the Draugr incident had led all the way to corruption in the local diocese and even to demon worshipers.

So how would the remake handle it?

“Ah—there’s a strange smell!”

Apparently the priest’s nose was better than mine. More precisely: my sense of smell itself was sharper, but I was terrible at telling smells apart.

“It is not a pleasant one.”

Following the priest into the alley, the stench we had been catching until now returned dozens of times denser.

I had thought it was just the ordinary smell of the streets. Apparently not.

“This is the Draugr’s…!”

One more thing I realized: my night vision was better than the Inquisitor’s as well.

I caught her armor and pulled her back. The Inquisitor’s face prickled up like a startled cat as she was dragged, and I stepped ahead of her.

“Demon Knight…?”

I did my best to ignore the reek still clinging to the alley and brought my hand to my hip. Click. The lantern at my waist flared to life, and the alley swallowed in darkness brightened.

“…O God.”

“Too late…”

Farther in lay a corpse dried so thoroughly not a drop of moisture remained. Better than crushed or half-eaten remains, maybe—but to eyes unused to this, it was still grotesque in its own way.

Leaving the two of them to their sighs, I walked steadily toward the body. The stench filling the alley was thickest on the corpse itself.

So this really was the Draugr’s smell.

The source of the smell—the Draugr itself—was nowhere to be found. And yet even the residual traces reeked this badly. Meeting the real thing was going to be miserable.

Creak.

But that wasn’t the important part.

I considered what my concept ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠would do and reached a decision almost at once. A character who moved to prevent further victims because he had once been a victim himself—when he looked at a victim he had failed to save, the feelings were obvious.

“…Leave vengeance to me.”

Self-reproach: if only I had been a little faster. Hostility: every last demon must be destroyed. And the rage that followed from both.

“So close your eyes in peace.”

Even in that moment—projecting his own family onto the victim, feeling grief, and wishing them rest.

There. Now call me a genius at character interpretation. Aha-ha.

“…I shall offer a prayer.”

The Inquisitor came up beside me and folded her hands. From her lips a prayer—neither too long nor too short—spilled out together with sacred light.

I was an atheist, but it looked rather fine.

“I’ve called the guards.”

Apparently that was what the Archmage had been doing—contacting the watch already. Good sense, that.

Honestly, in games it always felt a little off to just leave corpses like this and move on. Some games did summon guards instantly, though.

“The smell is still thick, so the murder can’t have been long ago. That means the Draugr should still be nearby. Let us find it before there is another victim.”

“Do you prattle on about the basics to show how clever you are? Tracking in the time you spend babbling would be more efficient, I think.”

Telling the player what to do next was appreciated, but my concept apparently hated it. I snapped back more sharply than necessary and stepped over the body to the far side.

I wasn’t trying to desecrate the dead—the stench simply continued in that direction.

“Haha. Quite right.”

But the thick-skinned mage simply clapped his hands at my sarcasm. At once the stench drifting in the air turned into a visible fluorescent haze.

“A tracking spell. It won’t last long.”

I hadn’t even taken a tracking skill yet, so I’d been wondering if I’d have to chase by smell alone. And they implemented it like this instead.

I made a faintly bewildered face at the sudden convenience. Did that mean I didn’t need a tracking skill at all…? More to the point—what happened if you started as a mage?

“….”

For now, good was good. I decided to just follow.

I took the lead deeper into the alley. Behind me, a white light bloomed.

“I shall purify the demon energy as we go.”

As Holy Power gently illuminated the alley, the fluorescent mist near the Inquisitor faded away.

That would keep us from getting confused later if the trail twisted back on itself. And since she was at the rear of the line, the trail we were following wouldn’t be wiped out either.

Thump.

So I could run, then. With that thought I put strength into my legs. Flutter. The three-split tails of my coat flared open like a peacock’s train.

“Mm—O wind, lighten our steps!”

The moment I started running, the Archmage hurriedly chanted a spell. Judging by the brief effect and the half-remembered words, it was probably something like Haste—a movement-speed buff.

But why cast it on the two of them and not me? Was this my karmic debt?

“A dead end!”

After only a short run, the Draugr’s trail that had followed the alley punched straight through a building wall. Possible only because a Draugr was an amorphous demon that could pass through solid objects.

“….”

What now? Go around the side? But then I might lose the trail. And it wouldn’t look cool.

So—time to use the advantages of a virtual-reality game again?

“Demon Knight?!”

Instead of slowing down, I angled slightly to the side. Luckily the tightly packed buildings had plenty of ledges and protrusions to grab and step on.

Thud!

My body ran up the wall, hands catching a windowsill and hauling me up. I’d wondered if it would even work—but it really was parkour. And with this in-game body, the performance was so good it was easier than I’d imagined.

Once something that had only ever been fantasy actually worked, climbing to a rooftop took no time at all. The bark-shingle roof gave a faint crunch under my boots as it yielded slightly.

“A man without restraint…”

Party members were usually programmed to teleport after you if you got too far ahead, so I didn’t need to worry. Now—where did the smell lead?

I ran across the rooftops and scanned the streets below. Fluorescent mist showed here and there, as if it had passed building–street–building in turn.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

I leaped from roof to roof, crushing the dried bark shingles underfoot. Once building-hopping turned out to work, this was faster.

But it was strangely quiet behind me. Don’t tell me the system doesn’t teleport party members even when the distance opens up?

I glanced back.

Only after confirming the empty space behind me did I decide for certain.

Some games kicked you out for straying too far from your party, so I’d been a little uneasy—but no related window appeared. Nothing like “Rejoin your companions within a few seconds.”

So solo activity was supported? Or was it a developer mistake? At this scale it wasn’t even that clever a feature—they should have planned for it. Or maybe the intent was simply to match your party’s pace…

Unfortunately, I declined. I was a native Korean who hated going slow!

“Found it.”

The magic had run its course and the fluorescent light was gone—but in its place ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I saw the source of the stench. A narrow open lot between buildings.

Red eyes flashing through pitch-black mist. Even after shifting from 2D to 3D, it was unmistakably a Draugr.

Whoosh!

As the quest updated, I leaped down into the space nearest the open lot with the moon at my back.

My coat tails flared open in the process, but it wasn’t especially inconvenient. My hands were already drawing the two-hander that had been rattling against my back.

Woooooo—!

The Draugr let out a droning hum, and my two-hander slammed into the spot it had barely slipped aside from. I’d gripped it in both hands the moment I drew it and brought it straight down—missing was a little disappointing.

Not that a clean hit would have done damage anyway. Amorphous types nullified physical attacks.

“…Glory to the heavens.”

Anyway. Hadn’t I said a true concept roleplayer had to be perfect even when no one was watching?

“Vengeance for the dead.”

I wrenched the sword free of the ground and leveled it at the Draugr again.

Black mist began to thicken across the open lot. The stench thick enough to fog the mind came free of charge.

Huuuuuuu.

More importantly—if I remembered right, parrying was completely impossible against amorphous types. Shame. Parrying was the easiest way to catch an attack’s timing—

Woooo!

“I was wondering how to peel that heretic away from you… and of course it is you, Lord Gretchen.”

—when a variable appeared.

“Lord Gretchen. The King seeks you.”

From within the Draugr’s mist, a robed figure rose.

A gloomy black robe set with red jewels. Even without recalling the original, the identity was obvious.

A Demon Contractor.